Horton Hears A Who: Freakshow
by Wormtail96
Summary: After the events of the movie, Jojo's life has actually gotten a lot more difficult. While on a science field trip to a chemical factory, a terrible incident occurs that corrupts his life for the worst. A new villainous Who is born. One named...Freakshow!
1. Prologue

**(A/N) Hey, there, I'm Wormtail96. Now this story is my very first of __****Horton Hears a Who, ****the 2008 movie. It is a very dark one regarding Jojo and a terrible incident that practically ruins his life. It will be rather short, not sure how many chapters, though. Just read on and enjoy.**

* * *

**Freakshow**

**Prologue**

"Hmmm..." Jojo sat in his bedroom on his chair, a large open bag full of salt and vinegar potato chips in his lap.

Jojo's extensively large bedroom was painted a jet black with a few red streaks across the walls and a smooth grey wood flooring. The large section which you entered into through the door contained a large bed and television, nothing else important. There were two doorways in the large entrance room, one leading out into a private bathroom consisting of a toilet, sink and shower. The other doorway lead into a small study with a desk and chair.

Jojo was sitting in his study right now, letting the moonlight shine through the window. He left his television on in the entrance room, which was currently showing the news. Jojo didn't care, he just didn't want to sit in complete darkness.

The small who looked into his chip bag, shoved his hand inside it and pulled out a large clump of the salty crunchy chips. He didn't even bother to look at them as he just stuffed them in his mouth and munched away like an overfed pig. He was so hungry all the time now.

He remembered the day the speck he and the Whoslived on were saved by the heroics of him, his father and Horton so clearly. It was hard for him to fully comprehend the fact that he was microscopic and was living on a speck on a clover. Hey, who would find that easy to accept? But withing time, he got used to this whole new fact that completely changed Who science forever. Soon, Jojo's relation with his family grew ten times stronger then it ever was before and decided that becoming Mayor of Whoville in the future didn't seem like such a bad thing. Jojo thought that from that eventful day onward things were only going to get better and better...

If only that were the case...

Six months had passed and things for Jojo personally had taken a rocky course. Sure, the other Whos were having great times but not him. School had gotten seriously more demanding than it was before, what with Who science having massive new extensions and remodeling to it due to what was simply called the Speck Revolution. Science was never really Jojo's top subject, but he took this new change without complaining.

Next came Jojo's incident with alcohol. Jojo was 15, the alcohol age limit in Whoville was 18. Jojo saw his friends experimenting with small glasses of alcohol and decided their was no harm in just giving it a small try. Unfortunately, the moment the sparking cider touched his lips, Jojo felt like guzzling down a whole keg. He kept it a secret from his family and continued to drink privately in his room for a month and half until one day, Jojo's mother, Sally, walked into his room to check on him and caught her son right in the middle of a tall class of red wine. Oh, how Jojo wished he could just erase that day from his memory, but he couldn't. His explanation to his parents that he started it because his friends were doing it was not a good enough excuse. Well, it wasn't! Although Jojo promised his parents he would never do it again, at least until he was 18 and over, his father, Ned, was not convinced. He wanted to take Jojo's word for it, but since the young Who had been drinking in secret for a month and a half, Ned wasn't sure if he could trust him. So, the Mayor took his son to a psychiatrist who recommended that Jojo should take on something to replace his liking for alcohol. He said it was lucky that Jojo was caught at the time he was because if he wasn't, Jojo could have soon become a full-blown addict. So now Jojo had to find something to fill the void of him that used to be occupied by drinking. He enjoyed music, but that wasn't enough, he had to find something else. After a little while of searching, he found it: Food.

Jojo had actually always had an appreciation for good food and drink. He decided to pay a lot more attention in cooking class, resulting in his grade in the subject bolstering. The teenage Who also began eating a lot more than he used to at lunch and dinner, which _normally _would have been a good thing. But as the months past, Jojo began to eat more and more each day than the average Who. Cake, chocolate, potato chips, everything that sent his taste buds soaring. All though his continuous eating actually made him happy, not even Jojo himself could ignore the serious amount of weight he was putting on. It started off with a bulging stomach, but then his weight gain made its way around his sides and backside, with his legs, arms and digits becoming thick and pudgy. But despite this, Jojo didn't mind and his parents didn't seem to see any harm in their son putting on a few pounds as long as he was happy. Jojo found it to be a comfortable weight and it sure kept him warm on winter nights in bed. But what the teenage Who didn't take into account was how it was going to affect him out of house.

One of the major downsides of Jojo's new excessive weight was that like most large teenage kids as schools, lots of kids made fun of him for it. His so called "friends" abandoned him and for months now he had endured nicknames like 'Plump Rump', 'Butterball', 'Porky' and 'Wide Load'. But what had really struck Jojo down was that his girlfriend Vicky Vikally had left him because of his weight. At first, she didn't mind it at all if Jojo was a little more stomach, but when he came to point of obese, Vicky just saw him as physically unattractive. When she left him, poor Jojo was heart-broken. He had been with her for three years and she just threw him away like an old glove.

At the current time, Jojo was nearing his 16th birthday, which was only two weeks away. He thought of it as something to look forward to, but right now, he just wanted to drown out the misery of Vicky leaving him by shoveling down potato chips.

Swallowing a mouth-full of chips, Jojo quoted his ex-girlfriend's last sentence to him before she left him forever, "'Sorry, Jojo, you're just too _fat _to be my boyfriend anymore.'" In anger, Jojo tossed the bag of chips down onto the floor and growled, "Stupid Vicky. I don't need her. I don't need any of my 'friends' either." He breathed in and pushed him off of the chair onto his feet. He moved his massive form out of the small study and into the entrance room. He picked up the remote, turned off the television and yawned, "Oh, God, I'm tired." He was all ready in his nightwear so the teenage Who pulled himself up onto his nice soft bed under his covers.

Jojo was halfway off to sleep until he heard a faint _knock knock _on the door. He sat up from the covers and called to the person behind his bedroom door, "Come in!"

The door slowly opened, letting in the light of the hallway and making Jojo narrow his sensitive eyes. Sally was standing there in the doorway, looking at her son in concern.

"Jojo?" Sally said, walking inside her son's large spacious room. "Are you all right, sweetie?"

Jojo laid on his bed the other way, not looking at his mother, saying in an aggravated tone, "Yes, mom."

"Okay. I'm just want to remind you that you've got that chemistry field trip to that new factory tomorrow. So I want you to get up early in the morning and don't stay up late." Sally didn't get much of a response as all she could hear was Jojo purposely snoring louder, meaning he was not paying attention to her. She sighed and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door and she mumbled, "I don't know why I even bother anymore."

With his mother gone, Jojo closed his eyes once again, trying to get back to sleep. But the fact that he had to go on a boring field trip to a factory that produced chemicals the next day lingered in his mind. He didn't want to go, he really didn't, but the teenage Who didn't have a choice. As stated before, science was never really Jojo's top subject. If he was going to an art or music museum then he wouldn't mind, but no, it had to be a chemical factory, which mean it would be boring to the bone.

Jojo's stomach rumbled and he opened his eyes. He looked down at his stomach and by pressing his hand down on his belly, he felt the rumbling. How could he still be hungry after having half a large bag of salt and vinegar chips? He pulled himself out of his bed and tip-toed into his small study, picking up the bag he discarded shortly before. Jojo took it back to his bed, sat in the middle and began to finish off his snack, satisfying his appetite.

The Mayor's son should have taken more time to savor those chips, because unaware to him, they would be the last he would be having for a long time. And why is that, you ask? It is because tomorrow, Jojo's life is going to be turned upside down..._permanently._

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**(A/N) I'll leave it there. It is a prologue, so it is really supposed to be short. Anyway, tomorrow on his field trip to the chemical factory, something disastorous will happen and Jojo's life in total is going to be turned topsy turvey.**


	2. Chapter One: The Incident in the factory

**(A/N) All right, everyone, I am back with chapter one. Now, this is the chapter with the big incident in which Jojo's life is totally messed up, so, of course, it is going to be rather long. Also, we meet quite a few new characters who of which I hope you like. But just a warning: this chapter gets seriously dark and intense towards the end, so just to let you know. Read on.**

* * *

**Chapter One**

**The Incident in the factory**

Jojo woke up early in the morning just as his mother told him. He eventually pulled himself out of bed and had himself a nice hot and steamy shower, which he usually enjoyed every morning to relax himself. Luckily, it was Friday, so Jojo had the weekend to look forward to. He would probably spend the weekend in his observatory tinkering with his many musical inventions. Lately, he was working on a microphone that could help you sing in several different voices than your original one. He had been running out of ideas as of recently, especially with his Symphonophone, that mass music producing machine that helped save the town, finished. So now, Jojo built anything that popped into his mind just to pass the time.

Whistling, Jojo stepped out of his shower and quickly shrugged himself into a black bathrobe. Next, he picked up a red towel off of the rack and began drying his black hair. As he did this, Jojo walked over to the mirror and smiled. He brushed his all ready perfect white teeth and gurgled some green mouthwash. Before he went to get dressed, Jojo made sure his black hair was smoothed out the way he usually liked it. It was no secret that he had this obsession with perfecting his hair.

* * *

At breakfast, Jojo was dressed in his usual black and grey stripped jumper and black trousers, sitting next to his father and his sister, the second-oldest child Harley. She had two long slender pink pigtails that ended in a curl each and she was wearing a fuchsia buttoned blouse. To Jojo, Harley was all right, but she always had this slight little envy towards him. But luckily, it was nothing too serious, so Jojo didn't really have anything to worry about. In fact, she actually proved a lot helpful to him in tight situations.

Jojo was practically shovelling green eggs and ham down his gullet. He might as well of used an actual miniature shovel instead of a knife and fork. Harley's face went a pale green since she was the one who had to sit next to him and watch this display of gluttony.

Licking his lips of grease, Jojo set his knife and fork down and rubbed his stomach. "Well, that was nice." He then pulled out a small microphone from under the table, looked down the long elaborately designed table and called to one of his sisters with it, _"Hey, Kathy, pass me down the Blast O'bitz, will ya?"_

_"Coming." _The voice of Jojo's little sister Kathy called from down the table. Soon, a box of cereal slid down the long table of a wheeled tray. Jojo simply took it and filled it up a blue bowl with the contents. He picked up a cold carton of milk and began filling his bowl of cereal. When he picked up a large spoon and began stuffing the cereal into his mouth, Harley just had to say something.

"How...how could you...still be hungry?!" Harley just manages to ask, nearly losing it. "You just ate six lashes of ham and five eggs. How could you still be eating?!"

Jojo mouthed to Jessica just before taking in another spoon-full, _"Bite me."_

Harley gasped and looked at Ned, "Dad! Jojo just told me to bite him!"

Ned was busy looking through the newspaper, mainly through the comic strips, so he said plainly to Jojo while not really paying attention, "Stop telling your sister to bite you, Jojo."

"Okay, Dad." Jojo said flatly. Before he knew it, Jojo saw that he had finished his entire bowl of cereal all ready. Wiping his lip, he said to anyone listening, "Well, I'm finished." He stood up and picked up his back-bag. He squeezed his two arms into the straps and walked off down the table to the doorway that leads to the front door. "I'm going to school."

Realising his son was leaving the room; Ned got up from his chair and ran over to Jojo, stopping him in his tracks, "Woah, Jojo! Hold on there!"

Jojo stopped and looked at his father, "What is it, Dad?"

"Look, Jojo, I just want to remind you to be careful on your field trip." Ned told his son. He wasn't really all that keen on his son visiting a potentially hazardous chemical factory. "They make a serious amount of dangerous stuff their and I don't you getting any of it on you."

"Oh, yeah right, Dad." Jojo said doubtfully, while smirking. He added sarcastically "I'll be sure to put my hazmat suit on." This earned a few laughs out of his sisters.

Ned rolled his eyes, saying sarcastically while waving his hands slightly in the air, "Oh, yeah, laugh it up, why don't you?" He then frowned in annoyance, "Come on, Jojo, I'm serious here. If you're not careful, you can get seriously hurt." He pulled out a list from his pocket and showed it to Jojo, "I mean, look at all these health warnings we were issued. I mean, they don't exactly fill me with optimism."

"Well, Dad, if there's one thing I've learnt from today before school even began, it's that parents worry more than us angst-filled teenagers." Jojo commented, before patting his father on the arm. "Tell you what. When I get back from the field trip, I'll bring you back one of those souvenirs coffee mugs. I'm sure they've got one with a conical flask on the side."

"Hey, hold on, if you're so good at science, how'd you know what a conical flask is?" Jojo's intelligent, green and bespectacled sister Henrietta asked from across the room.

"Well, Hen, just because I hate the subject doesn't mean I don't pay attention." The teenage Who spun on his heels and walked off, before telling his father, "Seriously, Dad, don't worry. I'll be fine."

"If you say so, son." Ned sighed, rubbing his head tiredly, "If you say so."

Jojo made it to the front door and saw his mother standing by the side, drinking her mug of coffee. In one hand she had a brown paper bag, which made Jojo smile a bit. He stopped and placed his hands in his pockets.

Sally held out the bag, saying, "You know what I want first, little man." Jojo understood as Sally then leaned down. He rolled his eyes and gave his mother a kiss on the cheek. Sally smiled and gave her son the brown paper bag, "Have a good day, Sweetie."

"I will, mom. Thanks." With that, Jojo opened the door and walked outside. He didn't take the bus, since he usually preferred the quietness that came with walking there. He used the time to think to himself, something he really liked to do. Normally, it would be of his inventions, his father's almost abnormal ability to embarrass him and himself and how he was going to survive another agonizing day of classes at school. But now, he would just think of hiding his large stomach from most of the other students' views and smart comebacks to all those that might insult his girth. He would sometime say hello to some of the Whos that he passed, including punk rocker with the blue Mohawk and that strange Who that seemed to be all ways be in the bathtub.

* * *

Within fifteen minutes, Jojo found himself at Whoville High, his school. Usually, the school was like the rest of Whoville; bright and vibrant. But today it looked dull and gloomy, due to the overcast weather. Jojo looked around to see the school bus and several cars arriving by the drop-off rink. The students where coming, all the ones Jojo either liked, had no opinion on or just plain despised. And to be honest, 70 percent of them he just plain despised.

Soon, the kids on the school bus and those who were being dropped off by their parents dispatched from their transports and began swarming into the entrance of the school. Jojo watched as the many chattering students walked by him. He was actually waiting for one in particular and he appeared soon enough.

"Jojo!" A voice rang out to the teenage Who, grabbing his attention. Jojo looked back and saw a significantly tall teenage Who running up to him. He had short bright blue hair and wore a chequered fedora on his head. He also wore a green vest under a short open blue coat and had a pair of grey slacks. This was Jerome Eckhart, one of Jojo's associates and right-hand Who.

"Hey, Jerome." Jojo greeted his associate. He then spotted the fedora on his head, "Um, what are you wearing?"

Jerome looked up and saw Jojo looking oddly at his hat. He chuckled and said, "Oh, this here is my fedora. I bought it just this weekend. What do you think?"

"If wasn't chequered like a chess board, then maybe you would look a little less ridiculous." Jojo deadpanned.

"Hey, I think it works better than that whole black and gloomy getup you've had going on for years." Scoffed Jerome, motioning to Jojo's clothing.

"Hey, it works for me." Jojo smirked, tugging on his own black and grey stripped jumper, "Now come on. Let's get to registration. Then we can get the Hell on with this lousy field trip."

The two Whos walked up the steps into the school building's entrance. They were halfway down the bright blue locker-filled halls when something caught Jojo's eye. When Jerome noticed Jojo coming to a halt and his transfixed face, he decided to try and take a look for himself.

"Uh, Jojo, what exactly are you looking at?" His eyes then finally spotted what Jojo was staring at: Vicky Vikally, Jojo's _former _girlfriend.

Vicky was an acceptingly pretty Who with long green spiky dark rooted hair that was combed backwards. She wore a loose black sweater and blue eyeliner. Her fur was actually a pale colour like Jojo's and just around his size. All though, for a beautiful girl, Vicky was rather chunky in her weight.

Jerome ran his fingers down his face, groaning, "Vicky Vikally, Jojo?" Jojo only nodded, while still staring blankly at his former girlfriend, who was currently chatting with her friends. Jerome sighed and rubbed his hands together, thinking carefully about how to say this probably, "Jojo, look...y-you're forgetting one very important thing...she, how do I put this...she hates you."

Jojo frowned at his friend, "I'm well aware of that, Jerome."

"Then don't bother with her, move on." Jerome said and then motioned down the hall, "Now come on. We have to get to our form room for registration." When he walked off down the hall, he turned back and saw Jojo still eying at Vicky. Seething in frustration, Jerome stomped back to Jojo, grabbed the small Who by the top of his head and dragged him back down the hall to their form room. "You know, you are really starting to- oof!" Jerome and Jojo had accidentally knocked into someone's back, catching the Whos off guard.

Snapped out of his transfixion on Vicky, Jojo looked up at the Who he and Jerome had bumped into, and the much taller Whos that surrounded him. He frowned and said, "Oh...hello, Devon."

The Who that Jojo and Jerome had bumped into was a rather short Who, only slightly bigger than Jojo himself. His oiled back hair and fur was a sickly green colour, somewhat similar to Chairman Vanfrood and the other members of the city council. He wore large square glasses, a black tie, black trousers and an orange long sleeved shirt under a purple blazer. This was Devon Yexley, a teenage Who from a wealthy and influential family and, as known to quite a number of young Whos, the boss of a teenage Who crime gang. It was one that committed the typical juvenile crimes, such as graffiti, vandalism and theft. Devon made sure to stay out of going to juvenile hall, what with making sure to destroy any evidence, thanks to his father. That is one of the benefits of coming from such a high-class Who family; you could almost consider yourself untouchable by the law. A lot of the time, Devon had tried to get some of his most risky jobs done by getting through Jojo, being that he was the Mayor's son. What did Jojo do? He spat in Devon's face and told him to piss off. So one can imagine that Devon had it out for Jojo and Jerome (Devon actually hated the latter because he once spilt piping hot coco on the Green Who's best golf shorts). As for the tall Whos surrounding Devon, they were just a number of his thugs in his gang.

"Jojo." Devon pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the top of his own head. He had a faint British accent in his voice, "You and your friend should take a lot more care in the halls. Someone could get hurt..." He walked forward and prodded Jojo in the chest, while getting in Jojo's face, "...and I'm not talking about me and my associates."

"Get outta my face." Jojo said warningly.

Devon retracted his face, but said dangerously, still glaring tiredly at Jojo, "Look, Jojo, you don't like me and I don't like you. And I think it's safe to say that neither one of us really want to go on this field trip. So, tell you what; if you promise to not bug us on this trip, we won't bug you."

"I find that last part hard to believe." Jojo scoffed, putting his hands into his pocket. "You've been doing nothing but bug me for years, Devon." He and Jerome pushed past Devon and his thugs, while he said, "When you think about it, _I_ should have offered that deal to _you."_

Insulted, Devon rushed back in front of Jojo and Jerome along with his thugs, snapping, "Don't you dare turn your back on me! Let me make this clear, you are dealing with powerful forces!"

"Oh, please, what do I have to be afraid of? A bunch of graffiti artist?" Jojo sneered as he crossed his arms and he looked smugly at Devon and his towering cronies, "Oh, by the way, I've seen your spray art on the walls and they _suck!"_

One of the thugs was angered by this comment and yelled, pounding his fist into the other, "Hey! No one disses my spray art and gets away with it!" The huge thug advanced upon Jojo and would surely have nailed him if Devon had not intervened by grabbing onto his arm.

"Woah! Woah! Easy Claude!" Devon ordered the huge thug named Claude. He then tossed Jojo a dirty look, "Let's not bother with this scum bag yet. We'll deal with him when the time comes." He then motioned Claude and the other thugs to follow him off, saying dangerously to Jojo as he did, "Just stay out of our way, Jojo, or you'll pay. Listen to what I say!"

Watching Devon and his thugs start to walk off, Jojo called after him, making a wise-crack, "How about I just go eat some hay! I can make things outta clay and lay by the bay, I just may! What do ya say?"

Devon just managed to stifle screaming out in anger, his face going red and steam near enough literally jetting out his ears. He stormed off down the hallway and through the door that lead into his, his thugs, Jerome, Jojo's form room.

Jojo and Jerome looked at each other. Smiling, they gave each other a high five.

* * *

After registration, Jojo and Jerome walked out of the entrance of Whoville High with all the other students going on the field trip with them. They were about to board the bus taking them to the factory before handing in their permission slips.

Jojo was only third in line to hand in his slip, with Jerome behind him. When he was about to take his slip out of his pocket, an idea struck him on how to avoid going on this field trip. He could pretend he had forgotten to get his permission slip signed by his parents and could then stay behind while the rest are bored to death.

Soon, Jojo found himself in front of his teacher, Ms. Bellamy, who was holding her hand out for Jojo's permission slip. He put on an innocent face and shrugged his shoulders, saying, "Sorry, Ms. Bellamy, I don't have my permission slip. I guess I can't go on the field trip."

"What are you talking about, Jojo?" A shrill voice came from behind him and Jerome. Jojo looked back and saw behind Jerome a teenage girl Who that had bright blue hair tied into a long, thick ponytail that ended in a flick like many girl Whos. She was wearing a bright green long sleeved shirt made of wool and a skirt of the same colour. This was Zoe Eckhart, Jerome's feternal twin sister, a well-meaning but rather short-witted Who. Zoe pointed to Jojo's pocket, in which she could see the top part of Jojo's pink permission slip, "Your slip's right there in your pocket."

Jojo and Jerome slapped their foreheads in annoyance. Zoe had just unknowingly foiled Jojo's plan on getting out of the field trip. Jojo looked back at Ms. Bellamy, who was looking down sternly at Jojo and holding her hand out for the slip, while snapping her fingers a few times. Defeated, Jojo pulled his permission slip out of his pocket, handed it to Ms. Bellamy and stepped onto the bus.

Now inside the bus, Jojo looked around for an open seat. He would have sat with Jerome, but Mrs. Eckhart had told her son that he had to sit with his sister on the way to the factory. Looking carefully at the many rows of double seats, Jojo saw one open seat at the end of the bus, which had only one other occupant. The one Who Jojo was looking for...Vicky Vikally. He tried so hard to act as if he was over her, but he could not deny it; he was head over heals in love with her. Jojo spared no time in hobbling over to the same double seat Vicky was sitting in.

"Hello, Vicky." Jojo greeted with a huge smile, plopping down onto the seat right next to Vicky.

Vicky rolled her eyes and turned away from Jojo, looking out the window, "Oh, hello, Jojo." She said, not really caring at all about Jojo's presence next to her.

Jojo licked his hand and ran it over his hair, "So, how's your family? They all right?"

"Yes." Vicky said blankly, still looking away.

"That's great. I'm glad to hear your brother won that chess tournament."

"I hate my brother and I hate chess."

"Wha-? Uh, I mean, me too. He's such a jerk and that game is so boring I could throw up." Jojo said quickly and then complemented, "I like what you've done with your hair."

"I'm gonna get it done. I hate this hair."

"You're right, it's gaudy, it's tacky, it's gotta go."

Vicky knew perfectly well what Jojo was doing. He was trying his best to get back in good graces with her. The only way she would ever take him back was if he lost those 200 pounds of fat he had gained. So, thinking up a trick, she turned back to Jojo, saying, "And I hate myself."

Jojo, who was caught up in the pattern and not paying attention to what he was saying, fell for the trick, "I hate ya too, ya big, fat sack of crap." His eyes then widened, "Wait a minute. That doesn't sound ri-"

**POW!!**

* * *

Later, the school bus had arrived at Whoville's chemical factory, _Who Chem. Inc,_ the city's mass producing chemical plant, positioned in the north east of Whoville. The bus stopped in front of the gates outside the factory and the students began to depart one by one out of the bus doors.

Jojo stepped off the bus, while holding a large ice pack over his sore eye. He then took it off and rubbed his eye that Vicky punched, which was feeling a lot better now.

"Thanks, Jerome." Jojo thanked his associate and handed it back to him.

"Yeah, yeah, no problem. But I seriously need it back now." Jerome said, taking the ice pack back and put it into a brown paper bag containing his lunch. "I need this to cool my lunch." Jerome then looked up at the large grey square building and the smoke venting out of the tall chimneys. The place did not look like the rest of Whoville at all, which was bright and colourful, it was dull and grey. He whistled, "Wow that is one big factory."

Jojo looked at smoke coming out of the chimneys and remarked, "Seeing all that toxic smoke spewing out and poisoning our once clean atmosphere makes me wonder why the Hell I should care."

"You're a total kill joy, you know that?" Jerome stated, frowning at his small friend.

* * *

Later on, Jojo's group were being shown around the factory by Dr. Mary Lou Larue, fresh out of Who U. She had taken a second job at the factory, since a single job as a lecturer at Who U wasn't enough to pay the bills. The factory itself was just as dark and grey as it was outside. They were walking along one of the many long catwalks positioned high above the production floor with rails to protect anyone from falling off. Down below were large vats of chemicals of different colours bubbling and swirling in their containers. Whos in hazmat suits were carefully carrying chemicals and pushing carts of chemicals around the floor, making sure not to bump into each other.

"And here we have floor D-14, the work room where we make all the chemical bases of what are to be future and/or more efficient cures for skin disorders and diseases." Dr. Larue told the many students following behind her, the words including an 'S' with a lisp, which got a few quiet snickers from the students.

"Uh, what kind of disorders and diseases, Dr. Larue?" Jerome asked, while holding a pen and clipboard. The truth was that Jerome had a fine knack for chemistry and had been taking notes all throughout the whole field trip.

"Well, we're aiming to make cures for all most all kinds; Cellulitis, Carbunde, Angiomas, we're even trying to create a cure for skin cancer."

Jojo thought as he walked across the catwalk looking down at one particular blue chemical in a large vat, _'Puh, skin cancer. If those people are stupid enough to use UV lights to tan their skin and fur, then they deserve what's coming to them.' _If only he knew that this wouldn't be the only time he saw this particular vat of chemicals. The next time he saw it, it would not be a very pleasant moment in time...

Dr. Larue then continued, "Now, be aware that these chemicals are both untested and highly unstable." She then gave the students are dry look, "So please don't do anything stupid like leaning over the rails."

Jojo was ever so tempted to lean over that rail and cause some trouble, but smart enough to realise that that was a completely stupid idea, restrained himself. He then spotted Vicky in the group...standing next to Devon?! A theory then popped into his mind, one which was confirmed when he saw him putting his arm around her shoulder.

Walking over to Devon and Vicky, Jojo gave Devon a hard tap on the shoulder, getting his attention. He then brought Devon to the back of the group and whispered to him angrily, _"What do you think you're doing, Devon?!"_

_"Are you daft, Jojo?! Why can't you just see facts and accept that she is no longer your girlfriend?!" _Devon whispered back angrily.

_"Who says?!"_

_"She said it herself, you boob!"_

If there was one thing Jojo hated, it was being called a 'boob'. He poked Devon hard on the shoulder a few times and snarled, _"You know, you are really pushing me, Yexley! I-!"_

The two Whos then look forward and saw that the group was moving ahead and were halfway out the door. Yelping, they bolted down the catwalk and through the door to catch up with the group.

* * *

A few hours passed, and Jojo could have sworn that he was so tired that he had actually dozed off for a brief moment at one point. He felt so tired and worn out during the tour of the factory, but why? He had gotten a good amount of sleep like his mother had told him. Maybe it was all the lengthy and scientific explanations Dr. Larue had been giving each time they walked into a new production floor. Science really _wasn't _Jojo's subject. Music and Art, now they suited him well. Hell, he even thought about passing a law to assert the two cultural subjects in Whoville society.

It was now lunch and the students were having their packed lunches provided by their parents. Jerome, himself, was sitting next to Zoe, eating a turkey sandwich and drinking a can of diet cola. But soon he noticed something a miss. A particular Who was not sitting to the other side of him.

"Zoe, where's Jojo?" Jerome asked Zoe, who was eating a bright red apple.

"Oh, Jojo went to the bathroom a little while ago. He hasn't been back for a while now." Zoe answered her mouth full of apple pieces.

Sighing, Jerome stood up from his table and walked up to one of the chemists standing by the door, asking, "I'm sorry, where are the bathrooms?"

The chemist pointed at the door they were standing next to and said, "Go straight down the hallway and when you come to an end, take the left hallway, go straight down and then take the right hallway. The men's bathroom is the fourth room on the right."

Taking all the info in, Jerome repeated, "Straight down, left, right, fourth door on the right, got it." He then walked through the doors and preceded his search for his associate, Jojo. However, unaware to Jerome, a certain Who had seen this and decided to follow him.

"Uh, I need to use the loo as well. Ya know that Whocozade. It rushes right through you." Without saying another word, he creped through the door.

* * *

Within minutes, Jerome had made it to the hall the chemist had instructed him. He looked at the door that said 'Men's lavatory' on it and was about to enter until he looked at the open doorway that lead onto the catwalk of a production floor. Jerome would have proceeded into the lavatory, but when he saw a Who standing on the catwalk nonchalantly, he froze. This was because it wasn't any ordinary Who; it was the very one he was looking for...Jojo.

"What the-? Jojo!" Jerome exclaimed, running through the doorway and down the catwalk to his associate.

Jojo was leaning against the side of the rails, holding the brown paper bag containing his lunch and his marshmallow whip sandwich in the other. He was too busy stuffing his mouth with marshmallow and bread that he only noticed Jerome when he was right up in front of him.

"Jeez, what's the matter with you?" Jojo asked simply, seeing his associate's flustered look.

"Jojo, what are you doing here?" Jerome demanded of his associate.

"Having my lunch, what does it look like?"

"I know, but why are you having it here?"

Jojo shrugged carelessly, "I dunno. Just to get some alone time, which, might I add, you are interrupting."

Jerome put his hands up, saying, "Well, excuse me then. But I really should let you know that you shouldn't be eating or drinking over a chemical production floor."

Jojo had finished his marshmallow whip sandwich, pulled out a can of diet soda and began drinking it. He finished, whipped his mouth and spoke, "Aw, please. Half of these chemicals that are produced will never get properly formulated in a cure or even tested." He looked down at the large markings on the floor, _D-14._

"That doesn't make it any more logical." Jerome then grabbed Jojo's soda can and then tried to take it off him. "Come on; give me that before you spill it."

"No." Jojo said firmly, tightening his grip on the soda can.

"Give me that can, Jojo." Jerome repeated, pulling hard on the can.

"I said, 'No', Jerome." Jojo yanked the can back, but Jerome still held onto the can.

"Let go!"

"No, you let go!"

The two Whos went into a tug-o-war over the soda can, trying to pull it out of each other's grip. They then both shouted, **"Let...GO!!" **Jerome's grip on the can then loosened and it sent flying over the rails.

"Oh, no!" Jerome gasped as he and Jojo looked over the rails to see the can of soda land on a rail below. Some of the soda leaked out and made a puddle, making Jojo frown crossly.

"Oh, great!" Jojo yelled angrily, marched over to the stairs that lead down onto the lower catwalk and climbed down.

"Jojo, get back up here!" Jerome called down to his associate.

"I will! Just let me get my soda!" Jojo yelled back to him. He ran across the catwalk and picked up the can. "Damn it. That's a waste of good soda."

Jerome yelled down at Jojo sarcastically, "Jojo, believe me, I feel your "pain", I really do." He then snapped seriously, "Now get back up here."

"Okay, I'm going." Unfortunately, Jojo had not paid attention to the puddle of soda on the catwalk. You might say, in the future, this simple every day mistake had become the biggest mistake of the young Who's life.

"Wait, Jojo look out!" Jerome yelled to warn Jojo, but it was too late.

Jojo then began slipping on the puddle of soda on the catwalk he was standing on. He tried to keep his balance by grabbing onto the rails, but he banged his hip hard against it. Yelling in pain, Jojo clutched his hip, but this left him with nothing to hold onto for balance. The weight of his upper abdomen pulled him over the left side, bringing his slipped feet along with him. Screaming, Jojo reached out his arms and grabbed the top of the rails. He looked down gaped in horror; he was dangling just above the same large vat of blue chemicals he saw earlier before.

Jerome had watched the whole thing happen and screamed in shock, "Oh, my God! Jojo! I'm coming, hold on!"

"No!" Jojo yelled, looking over his shoulder to Jerome, "You won't be able to pull me up! I'm too heavy for one person. G-go, go get Dr. Larue or somebody to help. I'll hold on!"

"But-!"

"Just go all ready!"

Jerome stammered a bit, but then bolted down the catwalk to get help, leaving Jojo to hold onto the rail for dear sweet life.

Jojo tried to pull himself up, but after a try of great effort, he was too heavy for even himself to pull up. All he could do was wait there, dangling from the rails while he waited for help to arrive. His heart was pounding a mile a minute. Jojo had never felt so scared in his entire life and the climax of the clover incident sure came close.

Soon, Jojo heard faint footsteps. He listened. They were growing louder with every passing second until he could swear they were right in front of him. He looked up. Standing above Jojo his hands placed onto the rails next to the mayor's son's...was Devon Yexley.

"Devon!" Jojo shouted, "Help me out here, will ya?" He didn't really care what Devon was doing here at the time, all Jojo cared about was getting pulled out of this dangerous predicament he was in.

Devon put on a thinking pose, putting his right hand under his own chin and his left hand strumming the rails. "Ooh, now this is a decision, Jojo. Let's look at the circumstances first, shall we? On one hand: it is only Who decency to help a fellow innocent Who. On the other hand: I just plain _hate your guts!"_

Jojo was now getting desperate because his grip on the rails was starting to loosen. He practically begged the green Who, "Devon, please! Even _you _have a sense of decency!"

"You're right." Devon nodded, but then added quickly, putting his index finger up, "But as they say, one Who's personal emotions can seriously get in the way of doing what's right." Devon reached into his pocket and pulled something out: a silver coin. He held it over Jojo, asking with a dark grin, "You know what this is, Jojo?"

"A silver coin?"

"Not just a silver coin, but my lucky coin. It was made over a hundred years ago, in the times of your Great Great Great Great Grandfather, the mayor." Devon explained with a hint of pride in his voice, "You can tell by the markings and how it's slightly thicker than the current silver coin."

"Are you trying to make a point here?" Jojo grunted, who's finger were starting to get rather sweaty and hence slippery. "Because if you are, then I strongly suggest you get on with it!"

Devon tightened his grip on the coin and moved on with what he was getting at, "Yes, yes, sorry about that, I almost started rambling there. Anyway, now we shall decide what happens next in the universal timeline by the same way many things happen: luck."

"You're gonna decide if my life is gonna end by a coin flip?!" Jojo screamed, getting frantic.

"Only if you oversimplify it like that." Devon deadpanned. He then put his coin above his thumb and told Jojo dangerously, "Now then...Heads: I pull you up to safety and it's another day of wine and roses. Tails: I let you drop down into your blue bubbling grave."

_Ping!_

Devon flicked the silver coin flipping high up into the air. Soon, it plummeted down into Devon's hand, which he slapped down onto the back his left hand. He grinned madly, "Now let us take a look at lady luck's decision." He took his right hand off the back of hid left hand, revealing the result. "Ooh..."

"What is it, you creep?!" Jojo yelled so loud his voice echoed throughout the production floor.

Devon then put on an almost authentic sympathetic facial expression as he said to Jojo with what sounded like some regret, "I'm terribly sorry, Jojo, but the coin has decided." His expression then turned dark, _"I'll see you in Hell!" _Devon slammed his fists onto Jojo's hands. Jojo's hands immediately released from the rails and his gigantic weight pulled him plummeting down into the vat.

**"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!" **Jojo screamed as his body fell down into the fat like a rock, waving his arms and legs rapidly in the air.

**"SURF'S UP BIG KAHUNA!!" **Devon threw his head back and laughed madly.

_Splash!_

Jojo's body crashed down into the large vat of blue chemicals, giving off one mother of a splash.

Devon cringed at this and commented, "Oooo, nice form you had there, but I'm afraid that you were a little rough on the landing." He tapped his chin and concluded, shrugging, "You may have to settle for the bronze, ya jerk!" He said 'ya jerk' with pure loathing and disgust. He breathed in slowly and exhaled. Slightly pulling on his lapels, Devon walked down the catwalk, laughing to himself, "Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh, heh! Ya jerk! Heh, heh, heh, heh!"

* * *

And what of Jojo? The teenage Who was sinking deep down into the vat of chemicals, still waving his hands and kicking his legs in the blue liquids. As soon as Jojo had been able to grasp what had happened, his skin and fur began burning as if he was in boiling hot water. The young Who began thriving and grasped his face in agony as the pain surged throughout every inch of his body. It was like boiling an egg, and he was the egg itself. Jojo hysterically tried to paddle his way back up to the surface with his arms, but it was no use, he kept sinking. He tried opening his eyes to see his surroundings, but it was a very bad move. When the chemicals made contact with Jojo's eyes, they felt to him as if they were being dissolved away to ash. It was like someone had shoved a cigarette directly into his pupils. Jojo couldn't take the pain any longer. He took whatever breath he had left and let out a scream of agony, his voice muffled by the water. The chemicals poured down into his mouth, which he did best to stop going down his throat, but he was sure he had swallowed a gulp-full. Giving up, Jojo just stopped moving his arms and legs, letting himself sink down the vat until he hit the smooth surface of the base.

_'Dad...Mom...the girls...' _These were Jojo's last thoughts and images in his mind before his agonizing pain slowly plunged him down into unconsciousness. He rested his head in a comfortable sideways position on the base and closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift away.

The last thing Jojo heard was a low but audible _THUMP _noise that repeated again and again. The last thing he felt was the water suddenly moving fast around his body, soothing his agonizing muscles.

Then...darkness. Nothing more...

* * *

**(A/N) And I will end the first chapter off there. Well, I'm actually very glad with how this chapter turned out. I hope you all liked the build-up and foreshadowing of what was going to happen to Jojo at the end of the chapter.**

**Now, in the chapter, Jojo is going to take some time recuperating from the chemical incident and at the end of it, we'll be taking a whole look at him. There will be a lot of comfort and emotional segments in it, after all, this Who has just fallen into a vat of chemical for Pete's sake. Also, most importantly, during the next chapter, a few familiar faces are going to make appearances in this story (winks).**

**Well, until next time, Read and Review!**


	3. Chapter Two: Old friends and a new face

**(A/N) All right, everyone, I am back with chapter two. Now, this chapter is where Jojo goes through a whole two weeks of recuperation as he heals in Dr. Larue's surgery room. His family and friends will be trying their best to comfort the teenage Who. Also, halfway, a few faces that you would never have expected to see in Whoville are going to come and visit Jojo. It will definitely be a surprise. And at the end...Jojo will finally see the face he will be wearing for the rest of his life. Read on.**

* * *

**Chapter Two**

**Old friends and a new face**

When Jojo came back to consciousness, he could only see darkness and had no feeling in his arms and legs. He felt his entire sore body encased in some material, maybe...a fabric, maybe? He felt himself laying on a hard, cold and uncomfortable surface. Jojo tried pulling himself up, but he regretted it instantly, because a burning sensation surged throughout his body, making him scream in pain. Only then did Jojo notice his mouth was mouth was covered up, muffling his scream.

Dropping back on the cold surface, Jojo heard a faint but audible voice speak out from the distance, _"Oh, my goodness! You're awake!" _He recognized who it was instantly from the lisp on the 'S'.

Jojo searched hard for his voice and finally chocked up from the right side of his mouth with a horse voice, "D-d-dr...Lar...ue.?" a shimmer of faint light came into Jojo's view, meaning the material encasing his body around his eyes had been moved away. Next, he felt the material around his mouth had been moved and he took in a fresh breath, only to receive the feeling of antiseptic at the back of his throat. Jojo had to squint his sore eyelids to make out the image of said Who, who was wearing a lab coat and a pair of thick safety glasses and sporting big purple hair.

"It's all right, Jojo." Dr. Larue told him in a quiet voice, "You've suffered a dangerous accident, but you're going to pull through."

"W-where am I?" Jojo whimpered, darting his eyes left and right, only to see either Dr. Larue, the faint light above or the darkness.

Dr. Larue explained, adjusting her safety goggles, "Why you're in the Whoville hospital, dear. You were located you here after we found you unconscious body. You were a complete mess when we broke open the vat and pulled you out."

Jojo forced a smile, all though it was painful to do so, "I guess Jerome was able to get to you in time, after all."

"Oh, yes. We had to call an ambulance and evacuate the other students from the building." Dr. Larue explained, picking up a clipboard and looking it other. "It was a miracle that we got you out of that vat in time. If you were in their any longer, you would have surely died." She then gestured around the dark room with a pencil, "This is a private surgery room. We had to gas you with anaesthetic, because you needed some time to rest up."

"Wait, wait a minute. Surgery?!" Jojo gasped, looking at Dr. Larue in disbelief.

Dr. Larue then looked nervous as she said, strumming her fingers on the clipboard, "Well, yes. The chemicals you fell into were rather corrosive of your fur and skin tissue. A lot of it was almost completely burnt away and a lot of the nerves on your face were seriously damaged."

Jojo closed his eyes and groaned, "Oh, dear God."

"It's okay. Me and a lot of other doctors hear are skilled surgeons. We can do our best to restore your face." She then pulled out a circular mirror attached to an extension and showed Jojo his reflection. He saw himself wrapped head to toe in thick bandages. The only parts of his body visible were his eyes, mouth, most of his hair and traces of his clothing. His arms and legs were ascended up high by ropes. He was also hooked up to many different wires and cords, "Don't worry, we've got you hooked up to life support, nutrition and water."

Jojo stared up in awe at the reflection of his banged-up body, until his face scrunched up in pain, "My face. It...hurts." Jojo winced. His face and body were still burning as if he had the worst case of sunburn possible. "My whole body is burning like Hell."

Dr. Larue then pulled something out her pocket, saying, "Don't worry, I have just the thing for that." It was a large vaccine. "A little morphine will do the trick." Before Jojo had the opportunity to object, Dr. Larue took his wrist, moved some of the bandages and shoved the needle into the vein. Jojo cringed his teeth. He had hated getting injections, ever since he was four-years-old. "Ssshhhh." She hushed him as she took the needle out his wrist and let the morphine take its effect.

Jojo waited for a minute or two before he felt the aching pain slowly fade. He actually started to feel light-headed, making him become giddy. A big goofy grin spread across his face from ear to ear as he giggled, "Oh, yeah. That feels good."

"Good." Dr. Larue smiled and began untying the ropes ascending his limbs and carefully placed them back down on the metal table. "Now, it's 8:30, so I believe you've had a nice sleep long enough for us to prepare operating."

Jojo chuckled, still grinning, "Wow, really? It would have only been about seven hours or something."

"Actually, it's 8:30 AM. You've been out for nineteen hours." She checked her wristwatch to confirm this.

Jojo whistled, "Well, I guess I would have had enough sleep for two nights." He then remembered something that was horrifying enough to briefly snap him out of his giddy morphine-induced state. "Wait! I nearly forgot! My family! Do they know what happened and that I'm here?!"

Dr. Larue's expression then turned sad, "Of course they know what happened, Jojo. It wasn't exactly an easy thing to tell them. Your parents went absolutely hysterical when they received the news. I don't want to imagine what your sisters are going through."

"But...didn't they come and visit me?"

"Aww, sure they did. You should count yourself lucky that you weren't awake to see his face when he was watching you unconscious." After Dr. Larue told him this, Jojo just turned his head on its side and closed his eyes, picturing his father, looking heart-broken and teary eyed. He had never seen his father like that in reality and new that soon he would.

Eyes still closed and not looking at her directly, Jojo asked Dr. Larue, "Will they come and visit me today?"

Dr. Larue now smiled as she nodded, "They will very soon. The mayor asked us to contact them the very moment you woke up." Her eyes shot up in realisation. "Oh, that reminds me..." She pulled out a cell phone, dialled in a few numbers and waited until the Who on the other end answered, "...hello? Yes, it's me, Mary. Yes, Mr. McDodd is awake...all right; you call his family...okay, bye." She then hung up and looked at Jojo, "All right, Jojo. If I'm right, your family will be here in a couple of hours. So..." Dr. Larue walked over to the side of the table Jojo was laying on and pulled something out from underneath. It was a small radio. She placed it onto a table opposite Jojo's and pressed the play button. Gentle, classic music began to play, much to Jojo's pleasure. "I'll be back later when your family arrive to check your process. You just rest here and listen to some music."

With that, Dr. Larue spun around on her heels and walked outside the door and closed it behind her, while Jojo said quietly, "Okay, I will."

Now alone, Jojo kept his eyes closed and took in deep breaths through his mouth. He allowed the morphine to continue its affect and slowly giggled himself to sleep...

* * *

Two hours passed and Jojo found himself waking up out of his sleep, his squinted eyes meeting the faint light of the private surgery room. He couldn't remember dreaming of anything but darkness. It felt like he was talking to Dr. Larue only minutes ago. The music she had put on for him to get to sleep had finished playing, leaving only the sound of Jojo's breathing to be heard in the room.

A female voice could be heard from out of the room, _"He's right down here. Just follow me." _It was none other than Dr. Larue.

_"Are you sure he's all right for us to be visiting him?" _Another worried female voice asked Larue. It seemed familiar. The voice sounded a lot like...his mother?!

_"Of course."_

Soon, the door of the private surgery room opened, allowing the bright light of the hospital's hallway shine in. Jojo lifted his head slightly and saw a group of Whos standing by the doorway. He recognized Dr. Larue immediately and soon enough the two tall Whos standing right next to her.

"Mom...Dad...?" Jojo croaked, recognizing the two Whos to be his parents.

Sally rushed over to her son and embraced him, forgetting he was still in pain, saying with a relieved voice, "Oh, Jojo, thank God you're alive!" She looked like she had not had any sleep for years when it had only been a night since she found out what happened.

"Ow! Ooh! Mom! I'm still in pain here!" Jojo winced. All though he appreciated his mother's concern, her tight hug was hurting him a lot more than it was helping.

Sally had realised her mistake and let go of her son, saying, "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realise."

"It's okay." Jojo said and cringing once again, "I guess the morphine must have worn off."

A most familiar voice spoke to the teenage Who, "Jojo?" Jojo looked up and saw his father walking up to the side of the metal table.

"Hi, Dad."

Ned tearfully placed his hand onto the side of Jojo's cheek rubbed it softly, saying, "It's gonna be okay, son." He then leaned forward and very lightly hugged his son, resting his head on his shoulder and vice versa. Jojo struggled, but hugged him back. Ned looked even worse than Sally. His appearance made it look like he had just stepped out of his own grave after lying for ten years inside it.

"I'm sorry, Dad, this is all my fault. I should have listened to you and took you seriously." Jojo muttered to his father, tears springing from his eyes.

"No, don't you dare blame yourself, Jojo." Ned looked at his son and held his face in his hands. "This was no one's fault." Oh, but what Ned did not know that this technically was someone's fault. Two words: Devon Yexley.

Jojo remembered what Devon did as if it were yesterday...which it was. He remembered how the green Who dropped him into the vat of chemicals due to the result of a coin flip! The very thought of it made his blood boil. In fact, Jojo could tell his father right now what really happened. He could squeal on Devon right now...and finally take the boss of Whoville's biggest teenage crime gang down for good. But for some reason...Jojo held back. Something or another was stopping him from telling his father how he really fell into that vat of chemicals. He just remained silent.

Ned let go of his son and looked at Dr. Larue, asking, "How badly is he damaged?"

Dr. Larue picked up a clipboard and checked Jojo's progress. After a moment or so of checking the data, she smiled slightly and stated, "Well, we have monitored your son's condition and it seems that his vital organs are relatively undamaged despite swallowing a small amount. However, we will still need to check how it might have affected his brain." Jojo and Ned gulped at that. "But all in all, the only major part of his body that is damaged is his skin tissue and some nerves, mainly around the facial area."

Jojo felt somewhat relaxed. Perhaps he was less damaged than he had at first thought. He then noticed something; only his parents and Dr. Larue had come.

"Dad, where are the girls?" Jojo asked his father.

"They're still at home. The older ones are comfortable the little ones. I mean, it's not like we could have brought all 96 of them here." Ned said the last part with a slight chuckle. The idea of bringing all 96 daughters to visit their brother in one hospital seemed crazy. And also, the relief of seeing his son living and breathing must have been enough to turn him back into the same goofy mayor and family one he usually always is.

Sally stroked her son's head that wasn't covered in bandages, "They were so upset when they heard what happened. It took hours to calm all of them down."

"Well, I'm glad to know they actually care about me enough to take notice that I fell into a vat of chemicals." Jojo rolled his eyes, rubbing his bandaged hand across his large his large stomach, where most traces of his clothing could be seen.

Ned looked at Jojo, saying flatly, "Hey, the girls care about you a lot more than you think, Jojo. Heck, even Harley was bawling her eyes out."

All though Jojo still found that hard to believe, he brought up another question that had been bugging him, "So, I presume the media and press are making a field day out of my misfortune?"

Dr. Larue picked up the daily newspaper, _The Whoville Gazette,_ that was lying on the side next to the sink, walk up to Jojo and held up it up to him. "Well, you've made front page." It showed a picture of Jojo himself and the _Who Chem. Inc. _building. It was titled: _Mayor's son suffers near-fatal sink. _

"You know, I really hate the press." Jojo scoffed at the newspaper in disgust. "They'll be eating this up like candy for days." He motioned for Dr. Larue if she could please put the paper away, which she obliged. He then turned attention to his parents, "Okay...so how long do you think I'll be here?" Ned and Sally looked at Dr. Larue, who was folding the paper up. She would have been the only one with even the closest answer.

"Hmm..." Larue must have been estimating this in her head, "Well, we don't usually get cases like this, but if I had to give a close estimate...I'd say two to three weeks."

"Two to three weeks?! That means I'm going to be spending my 16th wrapped up in bandages!" Jojo exclaimed, throwing himself forward, only to drop back onto the metal table writhing and shouting, "Gaaaagggh! My back! Agggh! Oh, dear sweat God!"

Dr. Larue rushed over to Ned's side, holding up a familiar vaccine, asking, "Morphine?" Ned nodded simply and Larue walked up to Jojo, took his wrist, found his vein and injected the morphine.

"Oh, boy, here comes the morphine." Jojo said, his voice starting to become goofy and as if he were drunk. This morphine was taking its effect more quickly than the last injection. It must have been a much stronger dosage. "I think...I think I'm getting kinda...Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!" Jojo laughed almost madly before his eyes rolled upwards and shut his eyes, snoring. He was now sleeping, with only the odd chuckle escaping his lips.

Sally watched her sleeping son and commented, "Aww, he looks like a little morphine-induced angel."

Ned observed Jojo's sleeping from an angle and finally said, "Wow, I think you're right." He then began thinking over something that made his eyes widen and he smiled broadly, "Wait a second. Dr. Larue!" He caught the scientist off guard, making her drop the vaccine with it narrowly missing her foot. "I just had an idea!"

"Really? What's that?" Dr. Larue asked, stepping down and picked up the vaccine. Ned walked over to her side and whispered something into her ear, making her gasp and look at him as if he were mad, "Are you serious?! Mr. Mayor, the machine is untested and we set it due in three months _after _it _was _tested. Even _he _is unsure about it."

"Don't worry, it'll be fine." Ned reassured her. "I mean, it's practically up and running now and we haven't seen any glitches from it."

Sally just stood there, watching without a clue at these two rambling back and forth, until she exclaimed loudly, "Wait a second! Wait a second! What are you two talking about?!"

Ned walked back to his wife and put his hands on her shoulders, "I'll explain later honey. In the meantime, you watch after Jojo until another doctor arrives. I'll meet you later at home." He then gave her a kiss and then rushed out through the surgery room with Dr. Larue close behind.

Now alone with her doped-up severely injured son, Sally ran her fingers through the parts of Jojo's hair not wrapped up in bandages. She said softly, "Aww, Jojo. I don't get your father sometimes either."

* * *

That night, when darkness had descended on Whoville and Jojo was still asleep from his morphine injection. In an enormous underground laboratory underneath Who U, one of the biggest leaps in Whoville science was about to take place...

The laboratory, despite its large size was actually rather empty, except for two large triangular machines positioned next to each other, both with two large electric channelling orbs on top. In between the two triangular machines was a very large green and silver circle that was big enough even for...an elephant.

"Okay, Dr. Larue, are we ready to go?" Ned was wearing a pair of thick safety glasses.

"Ready as we'll ever be, Mr. Mayor!" Dr. Larue yelled from platform above the machine and the mayor, in front of a set of controls. She pulled on a lever, making a low humming noise emit from the machines.

The channelling orbs began to glow a bright vivid light, nearly blinding the two Whos. The large green and silver circle began glowing as well in a straight line up until it reached the ceiling.

"Okay, here we go, Mr. Mayor!" Dr. Larue called to the mayor over the humming noise which had grown louder and louder. "You best stand back!"

"Right." Ned responded, taking several steps back. He then picked up a familiar large bronze horn positioned on a tall pole. The bottom of it was connected to a large thick wire travelling up through the Who U building to a very large satellite dish. He spoke into it, _"Okay, we're ready to go. Are you and the others coming, ready?"_

A voice very familiar to any Who responded through the horn, _"Yep, we're all here on Mt. Nool and are ready for the ride. But before we go, I just wanna ask you: are you one hundred percent sure it will work?"_

"Buddy, have I ever steered you wrong, before?"

_"Not that I recall, no."_

"Exactly. Look, just sit tight and within moments, I assure you that all six of you will be in Whoville." Ned assured his friend, smiling.

The voice then replied, _"Okay. We trust you."_

_"I think I'm going to be sick when this is over." _A distinct Russian voice gulped over the horn.

_"Just don't do it over me." _An aggravated female voice warned the Russian voice.

"Riiiiight. Dr. Larue..." The mayor of Whoville yelled up to the scientist, who looked back down at him, "Hit the red button!"

Dr. Larue nodded and then slammed down on one of the big red buttons on the control panel. Bright green electricity flashed out from the electric orb channelling into the light of the green and silver circle. It formed an electric sphere which continued to grow larger and larger, until it took up the whole circle. The light that blared from the growing sphere became so bright; Ned and Dr. Larue had to cover their eyes tightly to prevent their retinas being scorched.

"This is gonna get rough!" Dr. Larue screamed loudly, but barely enough to be heard over of the former humming which had turned into a high-pitched screech.

"That I figured!" Ned screamed loudly as well.

Soon, the blaring bright light dulled down enough for Ned and Dr. Larue to look at it with squinted eyes. The silhouettes of six separate figures began to come into view. One of them Ned could identify immediately; the tallest and largest one.

"Oh, yyeeeeeeeaaaaaah! It's working!" Ned and Dr. Larue cheered, laughing madly. "Wahoooo! **Ha, ha, ha!"**

* * *

The next morning at 7:15 AM...

"Here ya go, Jojo." Harley smiled, picking up a grape from a fruit bowl and putting one into Jojo's mouth.

Harley, with her and Jojo's sisters, Hildy, Helga, Hoola, Heidi, and Hedy had come to visit their brother in the hospital that morning. Of course, they couldn't all come, so they had to set them out into small groups each.

Jojo finished his grape and opened his mouth again for another green grape, which Harley obliged. "Mmmmm..." He moaned as he munched on his fruit treat. "That's great. Thanks Harley." He then looked at Heidi and asked, "Hey, Heidi, can you pass me my tea?"

"Of course." Heidi picked up a kettle and poured some tea into a cup. She added some milk and sugar and then held it up to her brother's mouth, allowing him to sip down the contents.

"Ahh, that's better." Jojo smiled and gestured to Helga to come over, "Hey, Helga, my neck's getting stiff." Helga knew what to do. She walked over to the back of the metal table Jojo was laying on and began rubbing his bandaged neck. "Ooh, ooh, lower, lower. That's the spot." One good thing that came from this whole fiasco was that he was able to treat his sister's like maids. He could actually now see that his sisters cared about him enough to see that all his needs were attended to.

The door opened and both Ned and Sally walked inside. Sally saw what was happening and sighed, saying, "Okay, let's break this up. Girls, come on, it's time for you to go now. Jojo's got some new visitors."

The girls sighed and then trekked out of the room, waving to their brother in perfect unison, "Bye, Jojo."

"Bye." Jojo managed to lift his hand to wave it after his sisters. When they were out of the room, he looked at his parents, "So who are these new visitors? More of my sisters?"

Ned shook his head, all though he was grinning somewhat very broadly, "Nope. You haven't got any more of your sister's coming until this afternoon."

"Okay." Jojo tried to contemplate who else it could be. "Is it...Jerome?"

"Noooooo." Ned shook his head once again, still grinning broadly.

"Zoe?"

"No." Sally answered simply, while giving her husband a look. He had shown her the big surprise last night and boy, was she stricken with shock.

Jojo chuckled and put his hands on his stomach, saying, "Okay, seriously now, guys, who is it?"

"Close your eyes." Ned instructed which Jojo followed. "Right, now just wait a minute while we go get them." He ran out the door and left it open for Sally to come out after him.

"No peaking, Jojo." Sally told Jojo before she walked out, catching Jojo with one of his eyes ajar.

"Fine." Jojo grumbled.

Jojo felt like he had been waiting for about twenty minutes rather than two. He made sure to keep his eyes close in worry that the moment he did, Ned, Sally and the surprise visitors would come in and the big surprise would be foiled. So he just waited patiently, and waited, and waited...

Finally, the doors opened and Ned poked his head inside, asking, "Jojo? You still got your eyes closed?"

"Yes, Dad." Jojo replied in annoyance, keeping his eyes shut tight.

"All right, then." Ned called back out the door, "Okay, guys, you can come inside."

All Jojo could hear was the sound of large footsteps followed by smaller ones. He had no idea who or what could have been coming into the private surgery room. Well, let's just say it was the last people Jojo had ever expected...

"Dad, can I open my eyes now?" Jojo requested, tapping his stomach.

"Not yet..." There was a pause. "Okay, open 'em."

Jojo finally raised his eyelids. At first, his vision was blurred so he could not make out the six figures standing above his bed, looking down on him. He then lifted his hands and rubbed his blurry eyes until his vision became clear. When it did, his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates and his jaw dropped. Standing above Jojo were...six walking animals?!

The first was a huge gorilla with blue fur and skin that was all stomach. He was holding a huge bushel of bananas in one hand and munching on one peeled banana in the other hand.

Next to the gorilla was a tall dark purple female kangaroo with a white inner fur. Standing right next to the female kangaroo was a small light purple male Joey with a white inner fur like the female. This must have been the female's son.

Perched on the very end of the metal table Jojo was laying on, there was a large filthy-looking black-bottom eagle. He looked somewhat more like a vulture than an eagle and despite having a long beak; he seemed to have sharp teeth.

On the table that had several trays of Jojo's food, the teenage Who saw something resting lazily on a plate, eating twice its weight in cookies. It was an electric blue stripped mouse that was just about the size of an elephant's toe.

Finally, standing right over Jojo was a massive grey elephant, just big enough to fit into the private surgery room. He had bright turquoise eyes and a small turf of brown hair on top of his head. He grinned widely at the small teenage Who.

There was a moment of silence so long that you could hear a pin drop from ten miles away. Jojo just stared at the six animals surrounding him with the most shocked look he had ever had in his life. He was at a complete loss for words.

The animals began to feel uneasy as they knew that this was not going well from the very start, except for the elephant, who continued to smile. He finally spoke up, saying to Jojo with his toothy grin, "Uh, hello, Jojo."

At last, Jojo had found the best words to use. He took in a deep breath, closed his eyes and…

**"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" **Jojo screamed so loud in terror the door of the private surgery room shook on its hinges and the tables shook.

**"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!" **The elephant freaked out in response to Jojo's scream.

**"AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!" **Jojo screamed once again.

**"AAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGHHHHH!!" **The rest of the animals, including the elephant screamed.

**"TALKING ANIMALS!!" **Jojo yelled, pointing his aching finger shakingly at the six animals in front of him.

**"TALKING MUMMY!!" **The big fat blue gorilla shrieked in fear as he pointed at Jojo, clearly referring to the fact he was covered head to toe in bandages.

Sally had to put a stop to all this screaming. She stood in the middle and screamed more loudly than anyone else, **"EVERYONE, SHUT UP!" **This made everyone be quiet as they looked at her in surprise. She had never had an outburst like that before. Her chest rising up and down, Sally calmed herself down and looked at her son, gesturing to the elephant, "Jojo, don't you even have the slightest idea who this is?"

Jojo, hyperventilating after screaming so much, stared up at the elephant, trying to find something about him that reminded that teenage Who who he was. "Uh..." Jojo was trying really hard, but he did not seem to be able to identify the giant mammal.

The elephant then spoke to Jojo in a full sentence, "Hey, come on, Jojo. I know you don't recognize my appearance, but listen to my voice. Sound familiar?"

"Well, you sound a lot like..." Jojo stopped in mid-sentence when he saw the elephant's look that meant he was getting there. He shook his head and stuttered, "N-no...th-that's no-not possible. No, no. Are actually trying to tell me you're..." The elephant nodded proudly, making Jojo's jaw drop again, "...Horton?"

The mouse on the table that was eating cookies exclaimed dryly, "Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding! You are correct, sir! You're prize: a newly made condo near the seaside!" He then returned to eating his cookies as if nothing had happened right before.

"Oh, my good God." Jojo gaped, stroking the side of his face. He looked at his father for answers, "Dad is this just a side-effect of the morphine or is this _really _Horton?"

Ned smiled and stroked his son's head, "He's the real thing, Jojo."

"But how is that even possible?" Jojo was a rather smart Who, but not even he could figure this out. "I mean, what did ya do? Use some sort of particle transporter machine to bring Horton and these other animals here to Whoville?" He laughed and then pointed at Horton, "And, and you temporarily altered Horton's particles so he could just be big enough to fit into this room right now?"

The animals and Ned looked at each other and then the black-bottom eagle said sheepishly, "Um, if we said 'yes' and that 'your theory which you thought up this very moment is absolutely correct' would it save a lot of explanation time?"

"Uh, yeah..." Jojo then gave the eagle and odd look and then looked at all the other animals, minus Horton, a strange look. "Um, I'm sorry. Horton, who are all these guys?"

Horton, realising he had forgotten to introduce his friends to Jojo, spoke as he cleared his throat, "Oh, well, these are some of my friends and neighbours." First, Horton pointed to the mouse that was practically scoffing on the cookies, "First of all, this is my best friend, Morton the mouse."

"Hey kid, how's it going?" Morton smiled at the teenage Who, while focusing more on taking a big chocolate chip and shoving it into his mouth.

"I just recently fell into a vat of chemicals." Jojo deadpanned.

Morton rubbed the back of his head, saying, "Oh, yeah. But still, I gotta tell ya, Jojo. Six months ago, that singing voice you've got...way better than mine."

"Thanks, Morton. That means a lot."

The optimistic elephant then pointed his trunk to the big black-bottom eagle, "This is Vlad Vladikoff, the black-bottom eagle."

"Здравствуйте!" Vlad greeted Jojo in a gentleman-like fashion.

"What did he say?" Jojo asked Horton, completely oblivious to what Vlad had just said.

Vlad explained to Jojo for Horton, "That means 'hello' in Russian."

"Oh, I see..." He then looked at Vlad suspiciously, asking, "Hey, aren't you that big carnivorous bird who chased after the clover and tried to destroy us."

Vlad groaned exasperatedly and elaborated, "Look, I know what I did was wrong, but perhaps we can look over the term 'forgive and forget'?" When he saw the Whos' expressions, he then pointed at the kangaroo standing next to him, "Besides, she is the one who hired me to do it. I say, blame her!"

Seeing the kangaroo, Horton introduced her, "Oh, yes, this is Kangaroo."

"Hello." Kangaroo said simply, while looking away into the darkness slightly. They all knew why she felt so uneasy here in Whoville. It was because of what she nearly did six months ago. The Whos promised to forgive her actions only as long as she admitted that for once, she was wrong and say that she was truly sorry. She did indeed do both those things, but she still felt a little bit guilty. Hence, none of them thought of it as a good idea to bring the topic back up.

Feeling the uneasiness in the room, Horton rubbed the top of his head and then spotted the little Joey standing right next to Kangaroo. He smiled and then ruffled the fur on top of the little Joey's head, "Oh, this is Rudy, Kangaroo's son. But I think you and him have met before"

"Hey, Rudy." Jojo looked at the Joey with a smile. He hadn't actually spotted Rudy until now, being that he was so short he could not have seen him over the metal table. The truth was, on the trip to Mt. Nool after the Clover incident, Rudy and Jojo had had a little chat with each other. They both learnt they had one thing in common: their problem with their over-expecting parents. They had become good friends and hoped that they could talk again some day. Neither had any idea that they would actually ever meet up in person. "I'm glad to finally meet you in person."

Rudy nodded, "Me too, Jojo. Me too." The young Joey then cringed at the state his friend was in. "I just wish it could have been under more pleasant, you know...circumstances."

"I know." Jojo sighed, looking over his injured and bandaged body. "But don't worry; I'll be outta these in two to three weeks."

"All though, you do realise this means you will have to spend your 16th b-day in this place." Morton brought up reluctantly, before burping from finishing the cookies.

"Yeah, but all that matters to me right now is getting better." Jojo then saw the big blue fat gorilla shoving all bananas possible into his mouth. "Wow. Who's the big ape going for a record?"

Horton, realising who Jojo was talking about, told him, "Oh, that's Yummo. He's the leader of the Wickersham brothers and-" Horton turned around and saw Yummo stuffing loads of bananas into his gap. He moaned, rolling his eyes, "Yummo, don't tell me you're trying this stunt again. You're only gonna get yourself hurt."

Yummo shook his head and said something, but with his voice muffled by the bananas. He then began making retching and coughing noises and clutched his throat, meaning he was starting to choke on the many bananas.

"Oh, boy, he's choking." Ned noticed and then rushed to Yummo's back. "I got it!" He told everyone before they rushed to aid the blue gorilla. Ned then wrapped his arms around the gorilla' abdomen and performed the Heimlich manoeuvre. The bananas then shot out of Yummo's mouth and all over the floor.

"Eeeew!" Jojo grimaced at the sight on the floor.

"Oh, that's _real _nice." A sarcastic Morton frowned at the mess of meshed up bananas.

A panting Yummo gave Ned a thumbs up and said, while coughing, "Thanks..." Cough "...Mr. Mayor."

Sally rubbed her temples and then pulled out a communicator, "Doc, we're gonna need the janitor, or should we say _five _janitors in here _now!"_

* * *

Over the next two weeks, Jojo spent them in the Whoville hospital in his private surgery room. He, at first, thought it would be nothing but a whole rollercoaster of pain, but it actually turned out pretty fine like many other Whos that had to check in for a while at the hospital. The food tasted delicious than the food other patients got, mainly because he was the mayor's son. Jojo had visitors coming in to see him every day, be it Horton and friends, his sisters, his parents, Jerome, Zoe and even Vicky Vikally on occasion. They were always there to comfort him and sooth his pain.

Speaking of his pain, Jojo's had actually started to become less severe. After each passing day Dr. Larue and the other doctor's spent doing their best restoring his face and his skin tissue. It was funny, but after a while with working with each other, Dr. Larue and Jojo had developed a bit of a relationship between each other. She was always there to calm him down with she was working on his skin and hush him to rest. Dr. Larue had such a motherly nature, it was like she was attending and treating Jojo like her own. She had all ways wanted a child, the scientist just...never had the time to get out and find that special someone. That was one of the many little secrets he had learnt from her during his time under her care.

When the two weeks had past and it had come to his birthday, Jojo had had one of the best days of his young life. All of his friends and family had been there (most of his sisters via television screen, of course) to celebrate his special day. He was given presents and chocolate fudge cake which Sally carefully spooned into her son's mouth. Jojo thought himself fit enough to do it himself but he knew Sally didn't want to take any chances. Vlad had even put on a musical number with a Balalaika. No one was really that keen on it, but they gave Vlad their support and had applauded him. On the television in the right-hand corner of the room, they all watched that night's Who Kung Fu combat match, in which the ancient form of the Whos' aerobic martial arts was used to the fullest extent of combat. The animals of Nool were absolutely awe-stricken when they saw the glacial stances and jumps and agility of the Whos' strikes. That day could not have been any better for Jojo until Dr. Larue came into the room and gave good news: Jojo's would be having his bandages removed in two days and he would then be able to leave for home!

Jojo looked forward to those next two days with gusto. He would finally be able to be unwrapped from his mummy-like state and be able to see his old self in the mirror. Maybe then he could then finally rat Devon out for what he did. Jojo never really knew what was holding him back from telling everyone everything what happened in the first place. He kept hearing a small voice at the back of his head to get back at Devon _personally _by himself, but the teenage Who knew himself well enough to know he wouldn't do something like that. He couldn't physically hurt someone; it was not in his character. But the more he pictured himself with his hands wrapped tightly around his neck, the more he felt more positive towards the whole idea of it. Jojo did his best to push these ideas out of mind, but they kept coming back more and more frequently. It would be something he decided to sort out later, but unknown to him; it would be something he would sort out a lot sooner than he at first thought.

Poor Jojo. He had no idea what was going to happen on the day he's bandages would be removed. He had no idea of the face that would be starring back at him in the mirror...

* * *

The day had finally come to remove Jojo's bandages. It was a great day, or at least...it _should _have been. The sky over Whoville that day was mysterious grey with a faint shower drizzling down to the surface. Something in the atmosphere didn't seem right for a day that was supposed to be jovial.

It was 6:30 AM in the Whoville hospital. In the private surgery room, Jojo sat calmly in a soft black leather chair that was positioned to lean back slightly, letting the faint light shine down on his fully bandaged face. These bandages were extended over his old bandages to let his finally finished restored face mature. His hands were also covered up in more thick bandages after they had now been operated on. The rest of his body was not covered in bandages but instead in the clothes he had now been wearing for the last fortnight. He couldn't wait to finally get back into some fresh clothes.

Standing around Jojo were Dr. Larue, Ned, Sally, Harley, a few doctors and Horton and co. Each one of them felt anxious for this moment. They had all been worried how Jojo would look not that all his surgery was completed. Would he look like the same old Jojo or would they be looking at a completely different face? Their questions were now about to be answered.

Clapping her hands together, Dr. Larue took in a deep breath and walked over to Jojo's side. Next to her was a tray full of blooded and worn-out surgical equipment and old bandages. She said, while looking at Jojo and the others, "All right, then. Today's the big day, Jojo. It's the day we see how we did with your face." She then added, holding her finger up, "Now, I can tell you all now, this was no easy task. We have had damaged faces to repair before, but this was quite the challenge, especially with her damages his facial skin tissue and nerves were. So we've given it our best shot and now we can see the fruits of our labour!"

Jojo, his entire face covered up in bandages, groaned sarcastically with his face muffled, _"Oh, that part about my damaged nerved are really making me feel better right now."_

Harley rolled her eyes and looked at her watch, "Oh, for crying out loud, Jojo. Stop being such a baby and let's get on with this."

_"All right, all right."_ Jojo then said to Dr. Larue, _"Um, Dr. Larue, you know what to do."_

"Okay then." The scientist replied and took the end of the bandage on top of Jojo's head. "Here we go."

And so, Dr. Larue slowly and carefully began unravelling Jojo's facial bandages. Everyone just waited patiently, the sweated beading off of their foreheads and the heartbeats increasingly, especially Jojo's. But even before the unveiling was finished, everyone in that room new something was off. Something shocking was about to happen and they could all feel it in their bones.

Jojo's patience wore off quickly, especially when Dr. Larue got herself into a knot with the bandages. He growled and put his hand up to the doctor, saying sternly with his face now half muffled, _"It's all right, Dr. Larue, I-I got it."_

"If you say so." Dr. Larue said very quickly and quietly, leaving Jojo to take the bandages off of himself, or should we say, anxiously rip and tare off. For some reason, she didn't seem to see any harm in giving Jojo the honours. She felt the same worry everyone else in the room had.

Jojo rapidly began pulling the bandages that surrounded his face off all most madly. He felt his sweat underneath his disappearing bandages slide down his face and his heart pounding hard in his chest. Soon, he had torn off the bandages on top of his head, showing his messy hair. He had not noticed how everyone had gone deadly silent that moment. He had not seen how their faces of anxiety were slowly changing into those of horror as he pulled more bandages off, revealing more parts of his face.

Finally, Jojo tore off the bandages that covered the very front of his face and threw his head backwards, allowing the light in the room show his face clearly to everyone else. Harley would have screamed if Sally had not covered up her mouth in time, who just looked horror-stricken of what she saw in front of her. Ned recoiled in fear, bumping into a tray of equipment behind, but he did not take notice as he was practically paralyzed in shock. Horton's eyes widened and his ears dropped in terror, something he most definitely not used to doing. Morton, who was standing on the sink side next to Horton, nearly fell onto his back because he was that transfixed the horrifying image that was the teenage Who's face. Kangaroo bite hard onto her figure as her ears dropped down and shook her head, while Rudy ran behind and hugged tight onto mother in panic, starring teary-eyed up at his Who friend. Yummo's jaw dropped, the pieces of the banana he had been eating dropped out of his mouth. All the little colour that had been in Vlad's all ready grey face drained away until it was bone white. His lower beak began trembling, at a complete loss for words. Dr. Larue, her whole body shaking and trembling, took her thick safety goggles off of her face and looked at the new face she and the doctors had created. The other doctors themselves cowardly hid behind each other, the one in front hiding behind a clipboard.

Dr. Larue was the only one who managed to say something as she gaped, _"Oh, my good...God."_

Jojo threw his head forward in a hunch, the light above now shadowing the opposite side of his face that it shined upon. He breathed the antiseptic filled air in and out until he said so quietly that it was only just audible, _"Someone...give me a mirror." _No one even said or did anything, they were all too shaken at the sudden revelation. Jojo then screamed loudly, **"SOMEONE JUST GIVE ME A MIRROR!! PLEASE!!" **

Only Vlad had the strength to pick up a mirror that was set down on the tray of blooded equipment with his claw. Shakingly, he stretched the same claw and handed it to Jojo, not saying a single word. Jojo looked at himself directly into the mirror and fell silent. His mouth dropped open and his eyes widened as far as they possibly could. Jojo's face was a near abomination!

Jojo's face retained the same facial structure, but the colour of his fur and what he presumed his entire body was bleached to a bright vivid blue. Riddled across his face were several long jagged morbid scares that looked like green maggots eating away at the flesh underneath. His eyes had become a bulged bloodshot feral yellow and had dark black circles surrounding them. The end of the left side of his lips had had been torn away all along the left side of his cheek, revealing his front teeth now a disfigured mess and the inner workings of his jaw. His once black hair looked like it had several various colours permanently dyed into it along with the black and was now more of a mess than it was before. It looked as if he was wearing a damn authentic Halloween costume, except this...was real.

The teenage Who just made a groaning noise, which sounded like him, saying _"Oh, no..." _Jojo then began to sob, tears pouring down the edges of his eyes. He slammed the mirror down hard onto the tray of blooded equipment, shattering it into millions of shard, leaving only the handle in Jojo's still bandaged hand, which he soon dropped to the floor. Jojo buried his face into his hand and began crying out loud, the tears seeping out between his fingers. When he saw everyone staring at him in horror, Jojo screamed as loud as his lungs would let him, **"DON'T LOOK AT ME!!" **He then pulled his legs up and curled himself up to cover himself. He whimpered, _"Just don't look at me..."_

Sally trembled over to the chair her son sat upon and hugged him ever so gently, tears trickling down her eyes, "Sssssshhhhhhh." Sally whispered into her son's ear, who rested his tear-stained face on his mother's shoulder. "It's all right. It's all right."

Thunder and lightning crashed outside the surgery room's window and Jojo's cries mingled with them. Jojo didn't know what to do as wrapped his arms around his mother's back in comfort. He looked like a monster. No...he didn't look like a monster, he looked even worse. Jojo McDodd...looked like...a walking talking...freakshow.

* * *

**(A/N) And...there! I will end it there! Well, I don't think I could have done that last scene any better if I tried. I am actually very proud with how this chapter turned out, what with the return of Horton and co. and the unveiling of Jojo's new face. Anyway, next chapter, Jojo is going to be changing the course of his life, possibly **_**forever. **_**Especially when he times to take some revenge on a specific green Who. Until next time, Read and Review!**


	4. Chapter Three: Freakshow begins

**(A/N) All right, everyone, I am back with chapter three. Now, this chapter is where the old Jojo we know and love is consumed and transformed by the darkness that is festering inside him. This transformation will be officially complete when he takes revenge on a certain green Who, thus destroying his remaining Whomanity. Read on and see for yourselves.**

* * *

**Chapter Three**

**Freakshow begins**

_'Jojo? Jojo McDodd? Let's face it, I'm not Jojo McDodd. Not anymore.'_

These words repeated in Jojo's head as he sat crouched down in his white padded room. Shortly after he had seen his new mutilated face, the teenage Who went into a fit of blind rage, nearly attacking his friends and family until Horton held him down with his trunk. Dr. Larue then took that opportunity to inject Jojo with a fairly strong sedative that sent him to sleep. They decided to take Jojo to a small padded room in the secluded part of the hospital where hysterical patients were kept until they calmed down.

Jojo woke up one hour later in the white padded room, strapped up in a grey and black stripped straightjacket. For the first ten minutes he spent in the padded room, Jojo rammed hard into the padded walls, yelling and screaming in rage and sorrow. But soon, he calmed down enough to crouch down into a fetal position, letting himself wail and whimper until there were no more tears left to shed. He felt like a wounded dog laying and dying in a filthy alley in the pouring rain.

Now, for the last twenty minutes, Jojo just thought and muttered to himself. What was he to do now? Was he just to go around Whoville with a face that looked like a Halloween mask for the rest of his life? How could he possibly take over his father's position as Mayor of Whoville, knowing full-well that none of the other Whos would accept a _freak _like him as Mayor? What exactly did it even mean to be a freak anyway?! His life had been messed up for good and there was no point in denying it.

Jojo was still muttering to himself until he heard the metal doorknob on the large metal door jiggle. His large bloodshot feral yellow eyes shot to see the metal door slowly creek open. When he spotted the blue vest his father wore, the teenage Who instantly looked away. Jojo didn't want to see his father or anyone else right now. He didn't want him or anyone to see his horrifying face. To him, It would be one of the only good things he could do for people now in his position.

Ned stood there in the doorway, looking tired and ragged. "Hey, Jojo." He rubbed his opposite arm and looked down slightly at his feet. "How are you doing?" Jojo didn't say anything, but instead continued to look away. Ned moaned to himself, _"Oh, boy..." _He closed the metal door behind him and walked over until he was standing right over his first born child. He sat down against the padded wall next to his son and began tapping his fingers together. The agonizing silence that followed was enough to drive a man insane until Ned finally plucked up the courage to speak directly to his son, putting his hand on his shoulder, "Jojo...look. I...I..."

Jojo angrily pulled his shoulder and away and shouted, still not even looking at his father, "You what, Dad?! What are you just here to tell me how you're disowning me because I've become a small blue freak?!" He was so furious right now, he just spat out whatever thing came into his mind.

"Of course not, Jojo." Ned sounded rather hurt at hearing his son even considering he would think that way of him. "I would _never _think of you as a freak or some little punk who should be disowned."

The teenage Who just harrumphed, glaring at his father from the corner of his right eye, "Is that so...?" Jojo turned his eyes a full 180 degrees so that his father he could see his face. Ned bit his lip and turned his head slightly so that he did not look at Jojo's face directly. "Then why won't you _look _at me if you love me that much?"

"I just..." Ned didn't want to answer. He didn't know _how _to answer it.

"'Just'? You 'just' what?! Come on, _Pops! _**Look at me!"**

Ned silently breathed in deeply and looked at his son, trying his best not to cringe. He kept trying to tell himself that it wasn't so bad, but he knew he was only lying to himself. Jojo's face was not a pretty sight at all. "There, I'm looking at you. I'm not saying I'm afraid to look at you at all. It's just that it's something that takes a while to get used to. Isn't that enough?"

"You just don't get it, Dad." said Jojo dejectedly. "No one else is going to accept me as Mayor of Whoville. You might as well hand that birthright right over to Harley. She's wanted to be Mayor ever since she was four! I'm sure she'll make you and near enough everyone else proud, unlike your freak son!"

"Jojo, people don't think like that and you know it!" Ned said firmly, grabbing his son's shoulders and looked deep into his bloodshot feral yellow eyes. "Besides, whether people are going to accept you as Mayor or not, that's not what matters right now."

"Oh, yeah? Oh, yeah?! Then what _does _matter, Dad?!"

"What matters is what you, I repeat, what _you _think of yourself!"

Jojo forced himself to laugh and then yelled, "Well, _Dad, _I think of myself as a walking talking freakshow!"

"That's spoken like a true idiot, Jojo!" Ned yelled back.

"Well, how the Hell do you know?!"

"You wanna know how I know?! Fine, I'll show you!" Ned then pulled down on the right side of his colour, revealing a section of his chest. When Jojo saw what his father had been hiding under that vest he gasped. On Ned's chest, just bellow the collar bone was a thick long pale scar. It was clearly old but it was indeed noticeable.

"Dad, you're..." Jojo didn't know what to say about this.

Ned frowned sadly as he looked down at the scar, explaining, "I got this when I was 16. I was trying to impress your mother at the time but by driving my motorbike over a ramp. I guess you can all ready presume that it didn't end well at all."

Jojo just looked at his father sympathetically, "But Dad...i-it's not the same thing as me. You can cover that up, I _can't."_

"But that's not the point I'm trying to make." Ned shook his head and then looked at his son with a serious look, "What I'm saying is; even if you get some big scar, lose one of your limbs or even get your face messed up, you're _still _the same person you are. Okay, maybe you're right that that your face isn't easy to look at, but so what? You're still my Jojo. You're still my son. Nothing, not even a vat of chemicals will ever change that."

Jojo had never felt so touched. His father was still willing to accept him as his son despite that latter's ghastly appearance. He felt his eyes becoming misty. Turning to Ned, Jojo whispered, _"Dad?"_

"Yeah, son?"

Jojo nodded to his straightjacket, "Do you think you can get my outta this? It's really uncomfortable."

Ned took something out of his pocket. It was a key. Dr. Larue had told him to only unlock Jojo's straightjacket when he was absolutely sure it was safe to. He then asked his son, with a hint of joke in his voice, "Promise me you won't go psycho on me?" Jojo nodded. "All right." Ned put the key into the lock of Jojo's straightjacket and unlocked it.

Now free of his binding straightjacket, Jojo stretched out his stiff arms, the extra long sleeves hiding his hands. "Thanks." He thanked his father gratefully and then hugged him tightly. Ned was startled at first by Jojo's sudden show of affection, but with his heart melting, he hugged his son back.

"Don't worry. Everything will be okay." Ned said as he stroked his son's back up and down. "When Dr. Larue finishes and gives us the results of your brain waves, we're gonna take you straight back home."

"And if the girls stare and point at me and whisper behind my back...?"

"They'll all get grounded for a week. Trust me, you're not going to be made an outcast in your own home." Ned made this promise with the utmost honesty. Jojo was his son, deformed or not. He was willing to defend him and make sure he had all the basic rights any Who had.

Jojo's grin grew. His father would all ways be there for him, no matter how critically the situation was. The teenage Who rested his head on his dad's chest saying quietly, "You know, I _do _love you, Dad."

Ned smiled back, "I know you do, Jojo. I love you too."

So perhaps one might think that after that talk with his father, Jojo was going to be just fine. But unfortunately, just when Jojo thought he had found that bright light at the end of the tunnel, he was reaching yet another dead end. Why you ask? Because unknown to the disfigured teenage Who, a dark side of him was about to released...

* * *

It was 10:30 PM in Whoville. Jojo had been waiting in the padded cell for the whole day now. Those brainwave test results were taking a very long time to arrive. Unfortunately, they were taking so long that Jojo's parents couldn't stay any longer and had to go home and take care of his sisters, destroying all hopes of getting him home that day. If the brainwaves tests had shown an acceptable result, Jojo would be deemed mentally fit to return home, if not, he would then have to stay an even _longer _time at the hospital. But since the test results had not arrived yet, the doctors didn't want to take any chances so Jojo was kept overnight in that padded cell at most until tomorrow. As for Horton and friends, they were to be taken to a large penthouse apartment for their stay in Whoville, just a little gift from the Mayor. They had been so shocked when they saw how bad Jojo's face turned out. But then again, they had never seen Jojo's face before, so they, especially Horton were the first to find it easiest to look at Jojo without that much grief. They promised they would come and see him and soon as they would be allowed to, thus to give their support.

Jojo was given all the comforts of home in his large padded cell. He was allowed to have his straightjacket undone and had a small television put into the top right-hand corner of the cell. He was also allowed the basic food like he was given before and he was often paid a quick visit by Dr. Larue to check in on his current state.

"Mmmmm..." Jojo scoffed the piece of blueberry pie into his mouth with his fork. He had yearned for all his old snacks and treats over the last two weeks he had spent in the hospital. He was currently watching a clear Who version of the game show _'The price is right'. _Picking up the remote, Jojo remarked before changing the channel, "The price is _wrong, _bitch." He then began flicking through the channels until he would find something he liked. Soon, he left the television on the news channel and picked up a grape. He flicked it into his mouth and was about to chew when he saw what was on the news, which made him spit the fruit out in shock. There was a picture of Devon Yexley in a gold outfit, holding a driver club in one hand over his shoulder!

_"And in other news today, Devon Yexley, son of wealthy industrialists Herman and Mauricia Yexley, won this year's Whoville Annual Junior Champion Golf Tour for the third year in a row." _The smiling female news presenter said, shuffling her papers, _"It is reported that he won the Tour by an amazing whole in one on a Par Four on the 18th hole and--"_

Growling, Jojo stood up on his feet, stepped over his tray of food and walked across the padded cell until he was right underneath the television. He glared up at the smug look on Yexley's face, making a face like he was going to be sick. "Look at you." He snorted at the picture as if it were the real deal. "Look at you with your big fancy golf trophies and rich fancy pants clothes. You make me wanna retch!" On 'retch', Jojo punched the padded wall with his fist, only to see it still covered up by his long straightjacket sleeve. Cursing under his breath, Jojo irritably pulled his sleeves up and looked at his hands. They were coloured a bright vivid blue like his face and his nails had become razor sharp and yellow. He looked from them up to the picture of Devon the television screen. _"You..." _He seethed with pure loathing at the picture of Devon.

Jojo began pacing back and forth in his padded cell, grasping onto his now multi-coloured hair with his clawed hands. He repeated over and over, "Devon, Devon, Devon, Devon, _Devon!" _He caught glimpse of a green strand of hair in front of his eyes and ran over to the now empty dish that his food was placed upon. He moved the empty plates and glasses, picked up the shining tray and held it up as a mirror. Now that he took a proper look, he saw that his hair was mostly all black like it was before, but the colours dyed into it looked like well-done extensions. Green, blue, red, orange, purple, pink, the works.

_"Mr. Yexley, what do you have to say about your classmate, Jojo McDodd who, as you know, recently suffered a terrible accident at the Who Chem. Inc factory." _A news reporter asked Devon the television in an interview room.

Devon must have been preparing for this sort of question because his response was pure baloney, _"Oh, well what can I say about my dear good friend, Jojo. He's like a brother to me, or at least, a cousin who often visits. Anyway, I just hope he gets better soon and that his new face, which has not been released yet, still represents the Who he all ways is." _Obviously, Ned nor the hospital had released Jojo's new face to the media, who had been starving for news on the disfigured teenage Who's progress.

Jojo just watched the crock on the television and picked up a glass of ice cold water. He mused the glass over, took in a gulp and spat it out directly at the television crock, before screaming, "Git!" He dropped the glass onto the soft padded floor and looked back into his reflection by the tray he was still holding in his other hand. "God, I hate that guy." He paused for a moment and looked hard at his reflection, asking, "Don't you?" Mysteriously, Jojo then talked in a more smoother and darker voice, "Oh, yes, I sure hate him." He then said normally, "Thanks. Just checking. So, what do you wanna do?" He replied to himself in smooth and dark, "Well, I was thinking of ripping out Devon's heart and feeding it to him." Jojo's voice reverted back to his normal tone once again as chuckled, "Oh, my God! That was _exactly _what I was thinking. Well, you know what they say, great minds think alike!" Jojo then threw his head back and laughed out loud, dropping the tray as he held his sides.

Jojo's mad laughter continued on for a minute or so, until he got a hold of his mind and slapped himself across the face a couple of times. "NO! No. No, no, no, no, no." Jojo breathed in and out, trying to bring himself together. "What am I saying?! For God's sake, I would never even _think _of something like that! Get it together, man! I'm Jojo McDodd, the future Mayor of Whoville, not some nutcase Hell-bent of revenge!" His eyes widened and then said in his smooth and dark voice, "But hey, heh, heh, there's revenge and there's justice. Killin' that green-faced bastard would be doing the right thing even if he hadn't dropped me into that freakin' vat of chemicals. Nothin' wrong with a little vigilante justice." Jojo snapped out of it, grabbed the tray on the floor and began slamming his head against it, yelling to himself, "Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, **Shut up!" **

The teenage Who was now loosing his mind. The tray slipped out of his grip and he backed off until he hit into the padded wall. Jojo rubbed his temples and whimpered, "This is not happening to me. This cannot be happening to me!" His tone of voice changed yet again to dark and smooth, "Oh, it's all ready happening, fat boy! You're not Jojo McDodd, anymore. Why, you're nothing more than a deranged wackadoo that hits himself around the head with a metal tray and seems to enjoy **talking to himself a lot!"** He laughed, slipping down onto the padded floor. He rolled around like a ferret going made from rabies.

Catching his breath and stopping his hysterical laughter, Jojo looked up at the interview that was going on between the news reporter and Devon. He bared his distorted teeth and the sight, his large lumpy scars shaking as if maggots really _were _crawling underneath them. He pointed at the image of Devon, stating madly, "It's all _his _fault! All of this was! My face..." Jojo then felt his once soft furry face, which was now like the bristles of an abrasive cleaning instrument. "...it's all because of **him!" **He turned smooth and dark, jumping to one side of the cell, yelling as if to the normal Jojo, "Exactly! I need justice! All I need is a gun or a knife and _bing, _it's over!" He then jumped over opposite where he was standing in the cell and said crossly, pointing to where he formerly was, as if speaking to himself, "And what good will it do?! What will a quick spill of blood get me?!" Jojo jumped back, "Ah, come on! I would be doing everyone, not just myself a favour! I would be ridding Whoville of its biggest threat to social harmony! Don't be such a coward" Skidding back to his opposite position, Jojo put his hands up defensively, "I'm not being a coward! I'm just saying that I am failing to see the very fine line between what is justice and cold-blooded revenge! Okay, so if I kill Devon, what will it be for? Will it be for proper justice or just to slake my craving to see his blood on my hands?!" "Ahhhhhhhhh, shut up! Well, maybe I should just go out and find the answer of the difference between revenge and justice myself the practical way! I'm never gonna find the answers just standing here, talking to myself like some weirdo!" "Fine! I will!" "Good! I'm glade to see I have an agreement with myself!" He held out his hand and shook it in midair as if shaking hands with someone. "Likewise! Thank you!" The reasonable side of Jojo agreed, shaking hands with presumably the inexistent smooth and dark Jojo in midair.

The two bickering sides of his mind finally made up, Jojo leaned against the padded wall, thinking over the first thing he needed to do; get out of this hospital. It took a full five minutes, but inspiration struck Jojo like a lightning bolt striking an iron rod. It was so simple, yet so genius. He would be out of this damn hospital in no time.

Striding over next to the large metal door, Jojo crossed his arms and legs, while holding a large heavy object in one hand. He knew there was a security guard standing outside, making sure nothing goes amiss. Not only was that guard the only person in the way his escape, he had something the teenage Who actually really needed. He cleared his voice and calmed himself down. Jojo had to make this sound very convincing if he was to ever get out of here. Putting his hand to the side of his mouth, Jojo called out, hopefully loud enough for the guard to hear him, "Oh, my God! Somebody help me! Somebody help me! Aaaggh! Someone, please! I'm burning in Hell!" Jojo then shut up instantly, waiting hopefully that the guard heard his fake calls for help.

The sound of the metal door knob jiggling made its way into Jojo's ears, making himself flat out against the wall in silence. The door burst open and the large portly Who guard ran into the padded cell, looking for the teenage Who that cried out in fear. When he didn't see him at first, the guard was about to turn his head in the direction Jojo was in, until _BANG! _Jojo slammed the metal jug that contained his water over the portly Who's head. The guard stumbled for a bit, before collapsing to the padded floor, unconscious.

**"Ha, ha, ha, ha!" **Jojo could not have stifled his laughter even if he tried. He looked from the dent in the metal jug to the unconscious guard, wise-cracking, "Oh, yeah, here's a small tip, buddy boy: Caffeine will _kill _ya!" His laughter paused when he realised something, "Wait, I forgot. This is a water jug, not a coffee kettle." He shrugged and threw the jug to the floor, giggling, "Eh, still a good joke."

Jojo was about to walk out of the cell until he heard a small voice come from the unconscious guard's communicator, _"Underhill? Underhill?! Come in! Look, we're sending extra guards down there to see what the hell is going on! Stay there!"  
_

"Well, I'm getting out of here." Jojo whistling in a worried tune, but before he ran out into the hallway, he pulled the pistol out of the guard's holster, grinning, "That's better. Just what I need." Not wasting anymore time, Jojo ran outside the padded cell and bolted down the hospital hallway.

Soon, the two backup guards arrived at the open doorway of the padded cell and looked down at the guard who was just waking up from his unconscious state. He groaned dizzily, "Water jug..." His eyes rolled upwards and his head collapsed onto the padded floor, unconscious once again.

Meanwhile, Jojo was running and turning hallways all around the hospital to the nearest fire exit. He thought things were going absolutely great, what with most of the doctors gone home and only a few bumbling guards left to guard the building. However, his optimistic mood was shattered when he heard the alarm blaring loudly, _'EMERGENCY! EMERGENCY! ESCAPED MENTAL PATIENT! ESCAPED MENTAL PATIENT!'_

_'Oh, God, since when was I classified as a mental patient?!' _Jojo thought angrily to himself as he continued to run as fast as he could down the hallway. For some reason, Jojo was running a lot quicker than he had ever remembered. He even counted running down one of the hallways in less than seven seconds! But that did not matter to him at the moment. All that mattered was escaping the hospital and not being caught by the guards.

Jojo had to find a good technique to dodge the guards and throw them off his tail if any had caught up and were closing in on him. He held up the pistol he stole from the guard and an idea popped into his mind. Grinning toothily, he grabbed the firing end of the pistol and smashed all the wall lights he saw next to him with the handle, sending the hallway into darkness.

_'That'll throw the guards off with just enough time for me to escape.' _Jojo though cockily to himself as he dashed through the darkness. It wasn't long until he reached the end of the stairs at the very back of the hospital. There was a vast assortment of barrels of medical waste, which Jojo kicked out of the way to see the large double door that said _Emergency Fire Exit. _Jojo laughed and rubbed his hands, before pushing down on the bars that allowed him to throw open the doors.

"Oh, yes!" Jojo cackled, for once breathing in fresh antiseptic-free air, something he hadn't done for the last fortnight. Even more important, the teenage Who had escaped the hospital without having to worry about any of those pathetic excuses for guards. This moment of flawless accomplishment was nearly perfect, until one thing drove Jojo's off the edge.

_'EMERGENCY! EMERGENCY! ESCAPED MENTAL PATIENT! ESCAPED MENTAL PATIENT!' _the alarm blared again and again. Growling and his eye twitching, Jojo mockingly mimicked the alarm, "'Escaped mental patient! Escape mental patient!'" He then pointed the pistol up at the alarm above his head, screaming, **"SHUT UP!!" **_BLAM! _Jojo shot out the alarm with the gun, breathing heavily in and out. "Yeah, take that, bitch! Ha, ha, ha, ha!" But hearing the sound of police sirens, Jojo yelped, shoved the pistol into his pocket and ran down the alleyway the emergency exit lead out of. The disfigured Who laughed madly and let his long straightjacket sleeves wave madly in the air. "Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, HA! Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh!"

* * *

Meanwhile, at the McDodd's house...

"Aww, but why can't Jojo come home, Daddy?" Kathy whined, sitting on Ned's lap on the sofa. Many of Jojo's sisters were sitting right by him as well, who whined in agreement with their sister.

"Well, Kathy, your brother just...needs to make sure his brain is still working all right." Ned tried his best to explain it appropriately to his young daughter.

Hoola, young and unaware herself, gasped in shock, covering her mouth, "Does that mean Jojo's crazy, Daddy?!"

"What?! No, no, no, no!" Ned waved his both hands to put an end to that theory before it spread to his other daughters' minds. "He just needs to make sure that he is _not..._crazy?" Desperately, Ned turned his head to Sally, whispering from the edge of his mouth, _"Sally, I need some help here."_

Sally shook her head and walked out of the room, saying, "Nope, I'm staying out of this one, Ned. You'll have to explain it to them, yourself." Walking into the kitchen and leaving her husband to nervously explain the situation to their daughters, Sally made herself a cup of coffee until she heard the phone ring. Sighing, she took another sip of her coffee and answered the phone, "Hello? This is the Mayor's residence, who the Hell is this?" She paused and listened carefully to the Who on the other end of the call. But the more she listened, the more pale her face and wide her eyes went.

_Crash!_

Ned heard the news from the living room and rushed into the kitchen to check if everything was all right. "Sally? Is everything all right?" He saw that Sally had dropped her cup of coffee in a shock. He could tell from her expression that something was terribly wrong. "Honey, what's the matter? Don't tell me; Yummo chocked on his banana eating record again? Vlad got tangled up in a telephone wire? Horton accidentally crushed a group of kindergartners on his evening walk?!"

Mouth trembling, Sally stepped over the mess she made of the kitchen floor and gave Ned the phone, saying in some sort of panic, "Ned, I think you should listen to this!"

Ned took the phone worriedly, saying, "Hello? ...yes, this is the Mayor." He listened and after a moment, his eyes shot open with his pupils going microscopic and his mouth shrunk. "Uh...huh. I see. Thank you." Ned hung up, just grinning goofily muttered, putting his hands up, "Don't worry, everyone. Jojo's gone...broken out of the hospital and is now...running around the streets of Whoville with a pistol he stole from a guard." He then squeaked with a very high-pitched voice, "Nothing to worry about." Finally, the Mayor of Whoville took in a deep breath and collapsed onto the floor, before he mumbled, _"Sally, get me Horton or anyone of his friends who have the right hand-structure to answer a phone on the phone, please?"_

* * *

Out in the raining streets of Whoville, Claude, Devon's right-hand man was standing by a doughnut stand, where he was stuffing his face full of the sugary dough treats. But along with doing that, he was taking several notes off of the teenage vendor. The latter was having to pay for his family business to stay in tact and out of competition from other doughnut companies. This was one of the many mafia-like crimes Devon's syndicate enforced, picking on the little people.

"Okay, here ya go." The squeaky-voiced teenage vendor gave Claude the money and groaned, "But come on, Claude, be reasonable. My family have still got a couple of baby girls to feed at home, for crying out loud."

Claude scoffed, his mouth still full of doughnuts, "Eh, don't worry about it. I'm sure they'll come around to love doughnuts! Ha, ha!" He then strode off laughing, shrugging his leather coat as he did. The teenage vendor grumbled underneath his breath and began packing the stand away for home.

"Hmm, for a family business, they sure make these doughnuts good." Claude mused as he continued stuffing his mouth with the freshly made doughnuts. He then began lowering his head into his jacket as he began running more quickly down the alley he was walking through. The rain was seriously pouring down tonight. "Sheesh! What the Hell is with this weather?! Is it too much to ask for a clear sky, just for one night?! Crimin-" Before Claude could finish that last word, he felt his mouth covered up and his body dragged into a dead-end part of the alley when he was about to make a turn. _"What the-?!" _Claude's muffled voice yelled out before he was slammed against the stone wall. When he saw his kidnapper, Claude was so paralyzed with fear that he couldn't even find the ability to scream.

"Hey, Claudey! How's life been treatin' ya?!" Jojo howled with his teeth bared in a malicious grin. He was standing on Claude's chest, making the latter collapse down on his backside against the wall under the gravity.

"Oh, my God...Jojo?" Claude stuttered, gawking at what he saw before him.

Jojo's grin spread out further than Whomanly possible, freaking Claude out. "In the flesh, Claude." He whispered darkly with emphasis on 'flesh'. He then snickered, "Was that too much? I can never tell myself. Ha, ha, ha!"

"You...you look like a..."

Jojo pushed his long-sleeve covered hand hard on Claude's mouth, shouting loudly, _"Don't say it!!"_ He pulled the pistol he stole from the guard out of hit pocket and pointed it underneath Claude's chin threateningly, "Or so help me...!" He then moved his hand to allow Claude to speak.

"Oh, God, please no! Don't shoot me!" Claude begged pathetically, putting his hands together as if praying. "Look, just tell me what you want! I'll give you anything! Money, info, you name it!"

"Oooh, then it seems that you are more than compatible. I guess I won't need this." Jojo slipped the pistol down his long sleeve and continued, "I want to know...where your boss...Devon Yexley is."

Claude then tried his best to recall what his boss told him, "Well...D-devon said h-he...was going to play some pool at the private gang bunker in the bowls of Whoville at 29 Zoombazi Avenue." He nodded and continued, the information he had kept secret for years now just spilling out his mouth, "I-it's a meeting place only known to th-those in the gang, e-everyone else just thinks it's ju-just some abandoned basement underneath an abandoned building."

"Is anyone else going to be there?"

Claude shook his head, "Not that I know of. As far as I know, it's just Devon who's there." He then remembered, "Well, except maybe for Vicky, because I hear he's gonna have a date with her in a little while."

"Are you absolutely sure?" Jojo said slowly as he began reaching into his long sleeve for a certain object.

"Yes! Yes, please!" Tears of fear were now springing from Claude's eyes. "I'm telling you the truth! Only Devon and soon Vicky will be there!"

Jojo nodded and placed his hands on Claude's shoulders, smiling bizarrely, "Good. Good. Now you see what happens when we all cooperate? Everything works out for the better." He then tapped Claude on the side of his head a couple of times and added, "Oh, and one more thing, Claude; send your associates a message: tomorrow, there is going to be a meeting at 5:00 AM in that bunker. The head topic: something I like to call _New management!" _With that, Jojo took the gun back out of his long sleeve and clocked Claude around the head with handle, knocking him out cold. "Lights out!" Jojo was about to trek off to his next destination until he spotted the unconscious Claude's black bowler hat. It was off a good quality indeed. "Hmm, I think I will hold onto this for the time being." Jojo picked up Claude's bowler hat and neatly placed it onto his head. "There we go. Well, see ya later, Claudy!"

Spinning on his heels, Jojo ran off down the hallway laughing his head off in his new hat. "Next stop: Zoombazi Avenue! Heh, ha, ha, ha!" When he was going to turn a hallway, something caught his foot. He looked down and saw a piece of paper on it. Growling in aggravation, Jojo bent down, picked it up and read it over. It was titled _'Freakshow' _with the pictures of many freaky and deformed Whos dancing merrily on it. Seething with rage, Jojo ripped it up into pieces, all except one. The piece that read the title: _Freakshow. _Jojo continued reading this piece of typing on his journey to Zoombazi Avenue. Freakshow. Freakshow. _Freakshow..._

* * *

Meanwhile, at the penthouse where Horton and his friends where staying, the elephant himself had received an urgent message from his good friend, the Mayor...

_"So you see Horton, we need one of you guys to help find Jojo before he does something drastic!" _Ned told Horton over the phone, which Yummo had to hold up to the elephants ear as he was one of the few with the hand-structure to operate a phone. _"Can you help me, Horton?"_

"Mr. Mayor, I can promise you now that Jojo will be found. He can't hide forever." Horton told Ned boldly with a look of determination. "I can't promise you we will find him tonight, but soon, that I can say."

_"Thank you, Horton. You have no idea how much that means to me." _Ned thanked his elephant friend with gratitude. _"But remember, you CAN call me Ned. We're still friends first, Horton."_

"I know, I know, _Ned." _Horton chuckled, shrugging, "But still, there's no need for you or your family to worry. I'll have my best men on the job."

_"Okay. Good luck, Horton." _And with that, Ned hung up with the utmost faith in Horton's success.

"Okay, everyone, it's time to get down to business." Horton declared, as Yummo put the phone down and they turned to their companions. "We are herby on a mission for Ned to find Jojo. And..." his ears dropped and sighed, "I have absolutely no idea how we can do this."

Kangaroo rolled her eyes at Horton's inability to take upon this task, saying with her nose up high, "Horton, clearly we need to set out one or two of us to search for the kid each night."

Morton, who was sitting on the armrest of the smooth chair in the apartment, nodded as he remarked, "Yeah, and it's not exactly going to be hard. All we need to do is look for a 15-year-old Who with a blue face, several green scars and had one of his cheeks near enough torn away."

"Yeah, that's right. And then those of us that have to stay behind will go over the most likely places he'll go and communicate with the searchers." Horton smiled, knowing they were now getting somewhere. "So we just need to decide who goes on the search."

"And how are we gonna do that?" Yummo asked doubtfully, crossing his arms.

"A simple vote should work, what else?" Kangaroo told her companions as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Vlad then flew up to the group, holding a bag of salt and vinegar chips in his claw.He stated, with his beak full of the chips, "Personally, I think the laziest..." He swallowed the chips, only to shove another claw-full into his beak again, "...most slacking of the group should do it, you know, to pull his own weight around here." He flew over to the chair and rested lazily on it, while knocking Morton off. "You know what I mean?"

The rest of the group looked dryly at Vlad's clear act of laziness. They looked at each other and grinned slyly as they all knew they had the same idea. Kangaroo cleared her throat, "Okay, well since my son is too young and is currently asleep while as I lady, I prefer not to get involved in something so _dangerous..._who votes for Morton?" Everyone but Morton put their hands up.

"Who votes for Yummo?" Morton asked, resulting in everyone but Yummo putting their hands up.

"Who votes for Horton?" Yummo queried while looking at the elephant. Everybody but Horton himself put their hands up.

Now it was time to pull off the big trick. Horton grinned, while eying Vlad with a smug look, "Who votes for Vlad?" This time, with Vlad caught up in the pattern of the voting; put his wing up with everyone putting their hands up.

"Wait a minute..." Vlad's gulped, realising he had just been duped.

"Grab him!" Yummo roared as the group ran over to Vlad and grabbed him their gripes.

"No! No! No, you tricked me! You tricked me!" Vlad cried out in dismay as his friends carried him over to the window, while Horton placed a communicator on the side of Vlad's head. "You can't make me do it! You can't make me!" The Russian black-bottomed eagle wailed out liked a child as Yummo opened the window for Vlad to fly out.

"Okay, not just press the blue bottom on the side of this communicator to talk to us and tell us what you see." Horton instructed the wailing carnivorous bird as they began shoving him out the window.

"But why do I have to do this?"

Kangaroo then grabbed Vlad by the neck and pulled him forward, yelling, "Because if you don't, so help me, it's going to be roasted eagle for diner!!" She thrusted him out of the window and slammed it behind him. Vlad yelled several curses in Russian before he flew off into the Whoville night skies. "Май ваши грязные трупы жарит в шарах ада!"

Morton opened the window and yelled after him, yelling, "Hey, watch the language. There could be little Who kids listening!" He closed the window, only to open it one more time to yell, "Russian ones!" Closing the window once again, the small blue mouse zipped over to his friends, "Well, that's phase one of our plan. Now what?" He asked that last part to his elephant friend Horton.

Horton stretched his arms and legs and lurched onto the sofa, yawning obviously tired, "Well, first we..." Yawn "...we get to work on where Jojo could be..." Yawn "But maybe, before we do that...let's take a little nap." With one last yawn, Horton fell dead asleep.

"Yeah, at least for a minute or two." Morton sighed, crawling up next to his elephant friend and fell asleep shortly afterwards.

Yummo turned to Kangaroo for what to do, only to see that she was asleep herself, but still squatting down on her feet. The big blue ape then rolled over on his back, snoring loudly as he fell asleep, "Oh, well. Best go with the flow..."

But while five of the Noolians slept and one flew across the skies, one teenage Who was about to complete his turn over to darkness...

* * *

In the secret bunker underneath 29 Zoombazi Avenue, Devon Yexley was stepping out his shower and drying his body with a hot towel on the rack. It had been a good last couple of weeks for him and his associates. With putting Jojo in the hospital after dropping him into the vat of chemicals, Devon has put his top men into carrying out some of their most extreme jobs. Those included violent beatings, enforcing loan payments and arson. It wasn't like the Mayor's son could catch them in the act and report them to his father. So Devon was able to make thousands over the last fortnight. The only problem was that when Jojo recovered, he might try and tell on Devon, thus giving the police enough reason to take him down for good. But when he saw on the news that Jojo's unreleased to the press face had driven the teenage Who into a mad state, a idea of relief came to Devon. The authorities may still think Jojo was still wacko and not listen, after all, he and Devon's rivalry was no secret so it was likely Jojo would blame him. Perhaps Devon would be safe and out of the reach of the law once again.

But what had really made Devon's November was winning his third Annual Junior Champion Golf Tour and getting himself a new girlfriend. He had been looking forward to the Tour ever since Summer was over; it was the highlight to his end of the year. Golf was Devon's favourite past time, since it was the only sport he was really good at. He actually game a long line of pro Who golfers, so the AJCGT was not the only competition Devon won trophies in. As for his new girlfriend, it was none other than Vicky Vikally, Jojo's former girlfriend. After she broke up with the Mayor's son because of his gross weight, Vicky, one of the most popular girls at Whoville High was up available. Devon made his move instantly and was able to woo her over within under half an hour. She may have been popular, but she wasn't the brightest Who in school.

Devon was actually meeting Vicky there in the bunker in a short while, so that was why the green Who was washing up, after a good few rounds of pool. He wanted to look his best for his little date with his new girlfriend. Vicky didn't exactly mind that Devon was in charge of a teenage crime syndicate, she even said she found it interesting to be dating a 'wild card' like him.

After getting dry, Devon dressed himself into a thick soft blue night robe and a red cravat. He put on a pair of brown slippers and a red fez hat and strode casually out of the shower door into the luxury room of the bunker.

The bunker's luxury room looked like that of old-fashioned five star hotels. It was filled with large cushioned sofas, large lamps, red walls with gold patterns, many pieces of exquisite art and especially a furnished desk at the end of the room. It was a place only the rich could afford...especially those involved in crime.

Devon walked over to a cabinet specially design as a cooler for drinks and took out a small bottle of cider. Just the right thing for this kind of occasion. The truth was; Devon was the one who introduced alcohol to teenage Whos in Whoville High, who then passed it on to others. Jojo was actually one of those teenagers who got caught up in that chain.

Pouring the cider into a glass, Devon downed the cider down without a second thought. He had been drinking for a few years now, so he was a lot more used to it than some newbies. All he had to do now was wait for his girlfriend to arrive and then the fun would _really _begin. But what Devon did not know was that the only one having fun that night was going to be the one Who he hated most of all...

The green Who sat down on the red velvet chair behind his desk and spun it around, resting one leg on the other. Devon looked up and stared at the large portrait of him, standing bold and uptight. It had a blue lamp fixed above it, shining down brightly on the painting to make it stand out. In fact, it was the only light in the whole bunker, which was currently enveloped in darkness.

Picking up the glass and refilling his glass with cider, Devon heard a noise that broke the chilling silence of the bunker. It was the sound of the elevator that lead down into the bunker _swooshing open, letting a bright light into the unlit room._ Devon smirked, having a pretty good ideas as to who it was. He set the bottle down on the desk and turned his chair around so he could face his girlfriend, saying smoothly, "Is that you, sweet heart?" But oh, was Devon Yexley surprised to see that the Who walking out of the elevator was not Vicky Vikally at all.

The Who that stood only slightly smaller than Devon and stepped out of the elevator was silhouetted by the contrast of light and darkness. All that Devon could make out about him was that he was wearing rather thick clothing and tipped slightly over his head...a bowler hat.

"Who..." Devon stuttered for a bit, unable to make out the Who, "Who the clover are you?"

The silhouetted Who chuckled sinisterly, slowly walking forward, "Oh, it's just me..." He seemed to be holding something in his hand and was pointing it at Devon. He finished in a high, mockingly sing-song voice, _"Sweet heart."_

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I just thought I should pop by. What, did city council just pass a law saying it's illegal to say hello to old friends?"

""Old friends", What the devil are you talking about?! I've never even met you before!"

The silhouetted pretended to think this over and then answered, shrugging as he laughed snidely, "Ooh, I do think we have, Devon. ...have we? Oh, yes, we have met before, in fact. Yes, I remember the _last _time we met." His voice then turned dark and serious, "Come on, Devon, don't ya remember? You...me...a large vat...of blue chemicals?"

Devon's eyed widened in realisation as he jumped up from his chair, nearly spilling his glass of cider as he did. It was actually him, of all Whos. He couldn't believe it "...J-j-jojo?"

"Heh, heh! In one way or another." was the Who's snickering reply.

Devon began to worry. Jojo was here with him in the bunker, where no one could come to help the green Who. He decided to do the only things he could, reason, grovel and then plea for mercy. If Jojo had gone nuts at the sight of his own face, then just think what he would do to person who made him that way.

The bowler hatted Who continued darkly, "You dropped me into that bubbling blue nightmare, Devon. And because of what? A _coin flip?! _Oh, you must be insane in the membrane, bud." Jojo then sighed heavily, bringing his shoulder up, then down, "Something like that isn't easy to get over and forget, Devon, and by God, don't you dare think I didn't try!!"

Gulping, Devon pulled on his robe collar and began walking unsteadily around the right side of the desk. "L-look, Jojo. About what happened in th-the factory…y-you understand I-I wasn't really trying t-to drop you into that v-vat of chemicals...right?"

Jojo laughed dangerously, shaking his head left and right slowly. "No, no, of course you weren't. After all, it's not like you meant to deliberately slam your fists on my hands and sent me plummeting into that vat, right?" He said this clearly sarcastically. Jojo put his hand on his hip and laughed, "You have all ways been one bad liar, Yexley. I don't even know how you've been able to stay out of juvenile hall all these years."

The green Who then saw something tucked away in a tall black marble statue of a beautiful female Who. It was a gun. Scrapping the grovelling plan, Devon calmly walked over to the statue, mumbling, "Well, you see, the truth is...I was actually trying to pull you up. Your hands just slipped before I..." Devon ran to the statue and was about to pull the gun out until...

_Click._

"I wouldn't try that, if I were you." Jojo warned, cocking and aiming his pistol at Devon, before the latter could reach the gun in the statue.

"You...you wouldn't dare shoot me!" Devon yelled furiously, jumping around and pointing his shaking finger at the silhouetted Who. "You have no idea who you're dealing with! You don't have the grapes!"

"Don't I, Devon?" Jojo mocked at Devon's pathetic show of bravery. "I mean, I've come all this way to get here. I broke out of the hospital, stole a guard's gun and even squeezed out the information of your whereabouts." On that last part, Jojo tapped the rim off the bowler hat he stole from Claude. "You...heh, heh, heh...yo-you really think I wouldn't even make an _attempt?!"_

Devon stumbled backward, knocking into the marble statue and nearly sending it crashing onto the floor if he hadn't caught it in time. The green Who stood it up right and glared at Jojo and spat angrily, "And what will it gain you, eh? You think you've got any future ahead of you?! You know what?! I'm glad I can't see you're face right now, because I'm sure I'd go crazy just looking at it! You're just a-a stupid...**freak!!"**

Jojo, completely unaffected by this insult, threw back his head and laughed loudly, "Really, I'm a freak?! Strange, I thought I was a Scorpio!"

Drinking the rest of his cider and setting the glass down next to the bottle, Devon shakingly breathed in and out, sweat forming on his brow. He was in a _very_ difficult situation at the moment. Devon saw the bottle of cider next to the glass and noticed its thick and rigged square structure. Acting instinctively, Devon grabbed the bottle and lobbed it at Jojo, hoping it would take him out. "Take...**that!"**

The bottle went flying through theair at Jojo's head, who just stood there, unflinching. Jojo raised his hand and grabbed it firmly in his hand. He pulled off the top, grinning, "Thank you. I am thirsty, now that you mention it." He raised the bottle of cider above his head and dumped the contents into his mouth, with some of it missing and going down over his straightjacket. Rubbing his mouth with his sleeve and threw the bottle to the marble floor, shattering it upon impact and scattering the glass and remaining cider. "Now that is much better! I've missed that chilling feeling you get when cider runs down your throat. It makes you feel so..._relaxed." _

"What the hell do you want?!" Devon practically screamed in fear. He felt like a mouse trapped by a hungry cat in the corner of a house.

"Your head on a lance, if anything." Jojo then pulled something out of his pocket and showed it to Devon. "This look any familiar, Yexley?" It was a dirty coin Jojo had picked up on the streets to Zoombazi Avenue, "You decided my fate by a coin flip, I'm gonna do the same thing for you. Ironic, isn't it?"

"You wouldn't..."

"I would..." He then shouted quickly, "And guess what? I will!"

_Ping!_

Jojo sent the dirty silver coin flipping high up into the air until it landed back down in his hand. He then slapped the coin down onto the back his left hand. "Now let us take a look at lady luck's decision." Jojo repeated Devon's words from a fortnight ago and took his right hand off the back of his right pistol-wielding hand, revealing the result. "And wouldn't you know it...our result it tails!" Crouching over and grabbing his sides, Jojo laughed, "It looks like lady luck is frowning down on you, this fine evening!" A puzzled look appeared on his face, while he scratched his chin, "You know, I never really understood why they call it tails. I understand 'heads' but what's the story behind the 'tails'?"

Fearing more for his life than the story behind why the tails side of a coin is called 'tails', Devon plead, pulling down on his cravat in desperate panic, "Look, Jojo, I'll give you anything you want, just don't...don't...!"

Jojo cocked his head as if confused as he asked, "I'm sorry, wait, wait a second...did you just say "Jojo", Devon?"

Devon nodded timidly.

"Heh, heh, heh, heh!" This time, Jojo's laugh was a far lot more deadlier than before. "Well, the thing about that, Devon is...Jojo McDodd died the minute you dropped him into that vat of chemicals." He now walked closer and closer to Devon, until his body was illuminated by the blue light above the green Who's portrait. Now Devon could seen the top half of Jojo's body dressed in a straightjacket and his face covered up by his tipped over bowler hat. "But good news...in the ashes of that tragedy, a new Who was born. I've been mulling it over for a while now and I've finally decided on a new alias." He then touched the brim of his hat that was tipped over his face with his now sleeve-covered left hand. "So instead, you may address me as..." Jojo removed the bowler hat and flung it over to the over side of the room, allowing Devon to see the disfigured teenage Who's face, _"...Freakshow."_

Devon did not get the chance to even scream at Jojo's abomination of a face when...

_Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!_

Jojo McDodd, or better yet known as the fiend Freakshow, shot the teenage crime boss in the chest area five times until all his bullets ran out.

**"GAAAH!! AAAGGHH!!" **Devon screamed in agony as he clutched his bullet-riddled chest, stumbling sideways until he fell upon his red velvetchair, while sliding slightly off the seat. When his head dropped sideways on his shoulder with his eyes ajar and mouth open slightly, it was safe to say that Devon Yexley was dead.

His job now done, Freakshow's grin grew even wider than before. He arched his back and shot his arms up into the air, dropping the pistol to the marble floor. **"AAAHHH, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HAAAAAA!" **Freakshow laughed as loud and as hard he had ever done in his entire life. He mocked a similar version of Devon's words from a fortnight ago, "Sorry, Devon, but like you said..."the coin had decided"! **HA, HA, HA, HA, HA!!" **

With a life now taken, one could now say that Jojo McDodd really _was _dead. What was left? A monster...a monster named...

_Freakshow!_

* * *

**(A/N) And that is it, I will end it there! Wow, after checking, that is actually the longest chapter I have _ever _written. Jojo had brutally murdered his rival, exacting his vicious cold-blooded revenge. But this is not the end. If anything, this was just the beginning. Murdering a single crime boss is not going to be the worst of Jojo/Freakshow's actions. In the next chapter, a new face of crime will appear in Whoville. One that will strike fear into the heart of every citizen, cop and politician. Things are gonna get ugly, folks. Read and Review!**


	5. Chapter Four: A new face of crime

**(A/N) All right, everyone, I am back with chapter four. Now, this chapter is where Jojo takes control of the deceased Devon's syndicate and starts on his goal to become the new face of crime in Whoville. Read on and see for yourselves.**

* * *

**Chapter Four**

**A new face of crime**

Police cars, their sirens blaring, were parked all around the Whoville hospital building. The guards had called for all police available to come to scene and secure the perimeter, in hope to catch Jojo McDodd and bring him back. No luck so far. The cops put up yellow stripes of plastic tape around the hospital building, preventing anyone from entering, especially the many news reporters and press. They latter had received tips of what had happened and were eager to get inside scoops for their newspapers.

Most of the Whoville hospital staff and Dr. Larue had been called in the middle of the night out of their beds to come to building. None of them had been inspecting this to happen, especially with a Who that was as quiet and normally calm as Jojo McDodd. Dr. Larue had been arguing with the police to let her through and get into the building. She said that there might something very important inside the building they needed to help explain this situation.

"Look, you have to let me inside!" Dr. Larue shrieked, driven to the edge with the police officer she was arguing with. She was still dressed in her fuchsia night robe and big puffy pink slippers.

The officer she was arguing with was a gruff, corpulent and burly lieutenant of the Whoville police force, who had a short rough beard and moustache. He was wearing a light blue stripped long sleeve shirt with a grey and white chequered tie under a light brown open overcoat. He was wearing a brown fedora on his head and grey trousers held up tightly by a black belt. In his hand was a thick cigar which he continuously shoved back into his mouth and puffed. This was Lieutenant Arnold Knox, Whoville's rudest and surly cop.

"Listen, lady, I don't exactly have a choice!" Lt. Knox snapped back in his gruff New York accent, pointing at the scientist with his cigar. "No one without authorized permission is allowed in here, no exceptions!"

"Even if it can actually help _you _get something done for once?!" Dr. Larue yelled, getting in Lt. Knox's face. She knew all of Knox's laziness of actually doing a lot work on the force. How he was actually ever able to stay on was a mystery to her.

Lt. Knox growled angrily, getting in Larue's face also, "When that little teenage wacko is put back in this hospital and unarmed, then you can do whatever it is you need to get in that hospital. But until then, you ain't getting through these doors!"

"I-!"

A loud and baritone voice cut the two off guard, breaking them out of their argument. "All right, you two! That's enough!" Lt. Knox and Dr. Larue look to their side and saw another police officer walking up to them.

This police cop was a tall and well built clean-shaven Who. He was dressed in a dark green overcoat over a dark blue short sleeve shirt and black tie. His trousers were a dark black and he was wearing no hat on his head. He actually looked a lot cleaner and well-dressed than Knox. This was in fact the Commissioner of Police, Kent Martyn.

"Uh, Commissioner Martyn." Lt. Knox said, slightly in unease. He all ways had the Commissioner breathing down his neck when it came to getting on with his job properly. "What is it I can do for you, sir?"

"Well, you actually handling with a citizen properly, for one." Commissioner Martyn looked from Lt. Knox and then to Dr. Larue and continued, "Dr. Larue, what could be in the building that might be so essential to this current investigation?"

"Well, you see, Commissioner Martyn, before the patient that you are all looking for escaped, we took an analysis of his brain waves." Dr. Larue explained to the Commissioner tiredly. "If the results are finished, which I believe they should be by now, then we can look them over and see how severely damaged the patient's state of mind is." She then angrily pointed to Knox, saying angrily, "But this man won't even let me through to retrieve the results!"

When Martyn looked at Lt. Knox sternly, the latter cop then said defensively, "Commissioner, I'm only just doing what you assigned me to do here. I'm keeping people who don't have authorized permission outside of the hospital."

Martyn turned back to Dr. Larue, admitting, "I'm afraid Knox is right, Dr. Larue. You have to have highly authorised permission if you want any hope in getting into a building under such high security."

Dr. Larue rubbed her temples in aggravation, "Well, who do I have to get it from?! The Mayor?!"

"It's all right with me, Mary." A familiar voice told Dr. Larue, catching her, Martyn and Knox's attention. They turned around and saw the Mayor, Ned McDodd approaching their group. With him was an extremely worried Sally and Horton's group. The McDodd's 96 daughters had to be left at home under supervision of the oldest daughters. Horton and co. had awoken from their 'short nap' and were alerted to meet up at the hospital building to hopefully aid in their own investigation for the search of Jojo. Kangaroo and Rudy, along with the currently searching Vlad, were not there among Horton's group since Rudy was asleep and his mother was watching over him.

"Mr. Mayor." Commissioner Martyn addressed.

"Good evening, Commissioner." Ned then looked at Knox with a trace of repulsiveness. No one really liked him. "Lt. Knox." He turned his attention back to Dr. Larue, "So, you say his brain results may be ready to print out?"

Dr. Larue confirmed, "Almost certain, Mr. Mayor."

"All right, then. You have my permission to go inside and retrieve them." Ned nodded. He was feeling quite tense at the moment. His son was running around Whoville, mentally deranged and armed. "But are you sure they'll be off good help?"

"They'll be able to tell us how damaged Jojo's mind is." Dr. Larue added nervously, "I'm really hoping it is not damaged to the point of making him dangerous. It could even be damaged past the point of making him..." She cringed, "...homicidal."

Ned stared blankly at the scientist for a second, bug-eyed. He said, clearly stricken with worry, "Homicidal?"

"Yes."

"As in capable of committing homicide, which means killing someone?"

"That's right."

Ned put on a painful grin and chuckled, groaning beneath, "Homicidal? Heh, and he's got a gun. Heh, heh, homicidal. Homicidal. Homicidal." He repeated the word over and slowly walked over until he reached the roof of a police car. Carefully, the Mayor of Whoville rested his back smoothly onto the car roof, putting his hands behind his head. Everyone just left him be, he needed some time to himself.

Horton watched his friend from afar with sympathy, "Poor guy. He's seen better days." As he said this, Dr. Larue ran up the stairs into the hospital doors, giving Lt. Knox a dirty look, who returned the favour.

Morton zipped up onto Horton's head and looked down at Commissioner Martyn, asking, "So have you had any luck in finding Jojo?"

Commissioner Martyn sighed and shook his head, "No luck, so far. Who did _you _guys send to find him?"

"Vlad." Horton answered, smiling.

Lt. Knox, who was taking in a sip of coffee, spat it out in shock and exclaimed, coughing up some of the coffee as he did, "Vladikoff?! That giant carnivorous bird that tried to destroy our world half a year ago?! Are you nuts, Horton?!"

"Hey, Vlad isn't _that _much of a bad guy!" Horton huffed, defending the black-bottom eagle. "He's just a bit theatrical...he's kind of a hermit. It makes him really paranoid."

"Yeah, I bet." Lt. Knox grumbled under his breath, folding his arms.

Horton, ignoring Knox's comment, remembered he had forgotten to communicate with Vlad for some time now. "Oh, yeah, that's right, I should check up his progress." the elephant pulled something out from his hair with his trunk. It was one of the two communicators Dr. Larue had given them. Morton slid down Horton's trunk and clicked on the blue bottom of the communicator, making a connection with Vlad.

"Hello? Vlad? Over."

A short moment and the distinct Russian voice answered the communicator, _"Oh, hello, Horton."_

"Uh, Vlad. Hate to get technical, but you should say 'over', whenever you finish speaking. Over." Horton explained to his black-bottom eagle friend over the communicator.

Vlad's voice groaned irritably, _"Okay, Horton. What is it you request of me? Over."  
_

"That's better." Horton smiled. "I'm calling to ask if you've made any progress in finding Jojo. Over."

_"No, not yet. It's been quite a while now. I've been looking a lot of the city over."_

"...Uh, Vlad, you didn't say over when you finished. Over." Yummo spoke up, joining in on the conversation.

_"But I just did, didn't I? I mean, I- wait, do I have to say 'over' even if the sentence ends with 'over'? Uh...over."_

Horton, rather confused himself, look at everyone else as if asking the same question. "I _think _so. I mean, every sentence has to end with 'over', so I imagine that includes sentences that end with said word. Over."

_"If you say so, then." _Vlad's voice still sounded unsure. _"Anyway, like I said, I haven't found him yet, but will still keep looking. Over."_

"Over." Horton winked to Morton to shut off the communicator, who obliged. He asked Morton, still confused, "But seriously, do you still say 'over' if the sentence ends with 'over'?" They all just shrugged, not really sure themselves.

* * *

Meanwhile, Vicky Vikally stood outside 29 Zoombazi Avenue. She was wearing a loose black sweater, with the oversized collar dangling in front of her neck slightly and holding a small red handbag over her shoulder. She was also wearing her skin tight green and black stockings and a pair of polished black high heals. The teenage Who's hair was, like she told Jojo a fortnight ago, redone into to large spiked green pigtails both in a backwards position. Vicky hadn't forgotten, of course, to put on the attractive blue eyeliner and lip gloss. She all ways made sure to look her most hot on any date she had with any boy, be it Jojo and Devon. Vicky was all ways kind of a playgirl, out to hook up with the most rich or influential boy to bolster her reputation.

Vicky had been looking forward to this date with Devon for quite a while now, being that she was looking for a new boy to please her after she broke up with Jojo. All though, she did actually miss having Jojo as a boyfriend. They had been together for three long years. It was a shame that Jojo had to gain all that weight and become so hard to make out with, since they then couldn't even wrap their arms around each other. If only their relationship was not all most completely carnal and a bit more emotional, then who knows, perhaps they would of had a better chance of making a more solid relationship. That problem might have come from the fact that Jojo didn't talk much during the middle of the relationship and Vicky was busy moving into her 'glamorous teen' phase.

But none of that mattered to Vicky Vikally now. Jojo was old news put into a file and shoved into a dusty file cabinet. All that mattered was her fresh new relationship with her Devon. She knew she was dating a 'wild card', a villainous crime boss, but to Vicky, that was something that really turned her on. This date with Devon in the bunker was supposed to be one of the most pleasing nights of her life. Little did she know, it was going to be quite the opposite.

Smoothing her green hair, Vicky walked over to the rustic metal door at the side of the abandoned building. Before opening the door, she briefly took out her mouth spray from her handbag and sprayed her mouth fresh. "Now let's get this party started." She grinned, walking through the door.

When she saw the finely made elevator leading down to the bunker, Vicky ran her hands down her hips and stepped inside. The unknowing teenage Who had no idea who she would be meeting down there in the bunker, and it was indeed not going to be Devon...

* * *

Reaching the bunker underneath the building, Vicky stepped out of the elevator into the luxurious room covered in darkness except for the blue light above Devon's large portrait. The teenage Who didn't pay attention to how deadly and eerily silent the room was.

She called out into the dark room, looking for her date, "Devon? Are you there? It's me, Vicky!" When Vicky heard no response, she started to get a little concerned. Suddenly, a clicking noise was heard and a faint stereo noise played in the background. It sounded like the famous salsa song _Orquesta D'Soul. _Vicky's face brightened when she heard this music and she flung her handbag onto a nearby chair. "Ooh, Devon. That really sets the mood. You know, I actually thought I was early for a moment."

A voice then spoke out of the darkness, catching Vicky's attention, "Oh, no, no, no, of course not. In fact, you are just in time, Vicky." This voice didn't really sound like Devon's, it didn't have that distinct British hint in it. This creeped the female teenage Who out slightly.

Vicky looked up and saw the voice coming from the red velvet chair in front of Devon's polished desk and behind said Who's giant portrait. She saw a red fez hat pointing out just above the back of the chair. "D-devon? Baby, is that you? You don't sound like yourself?" She arched her eyebrow as she put her hands on her hips. "You haven't taken up crack, have you? Because, ya know, I'm not gonna start drugs."

The voice, sounding dark and smooth chuckled sinisterly, "Oh, don't worry baby. I'm clean. Well, all except for in the head, ya know what I mean?!" The voice then laughed loudly at it's own bad joke. "Ha, ha, ha!"

Realising that this was not Devon talking to her, Vicky really started to get worried. She began to back off step by step, while picking her handbag up as she did. "Well, you know what, I think I'll just be-"

"Going somewhere?!" The voice shouted, halting Vicky in her tracks.

"W-ho are you?" Vicky asked, clutching tightly on her handbag in anxiety. She had no idea who this was and the fact that Devon was no where in sight was really making her sweat bullets.

"Aww, Vicky, I'm surprised at you." The voice sounded authentically disappointed at her. "You'd think you would have recognized this voice after spending three long years with me."

Vicky's mouth trembled, "T-three years?" She didn't like where this was going.

"Sure...three years...remember? You..." The red velvet chair began to turn, revealing the body of the voice. When it had smoothly turned completely around to face her, the one sitting in the chair made Vicky scream in a shrill pitch. "...and me?"

Sitting comfortably in the chair was a bright blue Who, dressed in a fine blood red night robe and Devon's red fez. He was holding a small glass of cider in one hand and resting his crossed feet on the polished desk. Resting in his lap like a wooden dummy was the body of a certain green Who, his jaw hanging open and eyes ajar. On the armrest was a small stereo, which was the source of the salsa music.

"Hey, baby." Freakshow winked, speaking slowly and sexually.

Vicky was too stunned to say anything else. She dropped her handbag on the floor, gawking at the hideous Freakshow and the dead body of Devon in his lap.

Freakshow looked at Devon's clearly dead and pale corpse and spoke to it as if the green Who was still alive, "Say hello, Devon." He then did a ventriloquist act as he took drought of his cider and made it look like Devon's corpse was speaking in a high voice, _"Heya, Vicky. You look hot tonight. Maybe later you and I can get BUSY!!" _Jojo spat his cider out and looked at Devon's corpse in pretend shock, "Why Devon, that's a terrible thing to say. Bad Devon!" Freakshow stood up, smashed the glass on the floor, held Devon's corpse up in both arms and sent it flying across the room until it landed in a black leather chair as if it was sitting down. "It's good!" Freakshow shot up his arms in the air as if it was an American football game.

"Oh, my..." Vicky's body was shaking all over as she backed up a few steps. "Jojo, you look like a...a...monster!"

Freakshow's insane smile dropped to a tired frown. He threw the fez off his head and climbed up on the sturdy polished desk, saying, "Weird, I could have sworn you were gonna say 'freak'." He jumped off in front of the desk and walked up to Vicky, his hands behind his back, "You know, Vicky, when you and I broke up, I was hurt. _Really _hurt."

Vicky was now scared. Her boyfriend was laying dead on a chair near her and her deranged ex-boyfriend was approaching in a very dangerous manner. She giggled, pushing a strand of hair out of her face, "J-jojo, I-I-I'm sorry I dumped you. It was just that I...I..."

"What, Vicky?" Freakshow asked slyly, putting his hands in the pockets, "Why did you dump me?" He pretended to remember and scowled dangerously. "Oh, that's right. You dumped me because I got a little to _fat!" _His sharp nails clenched, "That was _shallow, _Vicky. Really shallow."

Vicky had to do something to calm the anger that was increasingly growing in her former boyfriend. He could kill her, he looked that ravaged and mental. She walked up to Freakshow until she was only a few feet away and reached out her hand to touch the right side of his face, cooing but clearly terrified, "Aww, Jojo. It wasn't because you'd gotten...gotten _bigger. _I still love you as much as I did before. It was just that I had problems going on at home and I needed my space...and, and..."

Freakshow grabbed her hand in a vice grip before it could touch the normal side of his face and hissed, glaring daggers at his former girlfriend, "Don't try and sweet-talk me, Vikally. I don't know why, but it seems that a lot of the people I know are all seriously bad liars!" He picked up a remote and turned up the volume. "Tell you what. Let's dance."

Freakshow wrapped his other hand around Vicky's waist and began a cruel mockery of the classic ballroom dance, which oddly was unfitted to the music in the background. The poor girl was now too scared and petrified to resist. Her body's muscles involuntarily relaxed, all the better for psychopath.

All Vicky could do was beg, tears jerking from her eyes, "Please...let me go..."

But Freakshow only laughed, "Oh, but dear, this is where the fun begins!" The psycho bounced around the marble floor with Vicky held tight in his grasp. "You know, Vikally, back when we were dating, you were never even once there to comfort me when I was hurt. That counts for emotionally and physically." He threw her out, and then pulled her right back, almost dislocating her arm if he had done it any harder.

Vicky screamed loudly as she was pulled back and then chocked up, now up and close in Freakshow's face, "Hey, I visited you in your recuperation. You can't say that's nothing!"

"Maybe, but I was referring to _before _we broke up!" He then threw her out the other direction, and yanked her back, nearly dislocating her other arm if any harder. "You visited me out of pity!"

"Well, that still counts, right?"

**"Wrong!" **Freakshow threw Vicky down toward the floor, now making her rather nauseous, and then flung her back up to his face. "Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong!" At last, he threw her out one more time, this time letting go. Vicky spun around almost five times before falling to the marble floor and pressing her hands against her twisting stomach. He looked down at her with disgust, "I never knew what it was I saw in you, Vicky Vikally." Vicky just whimpered on the marble floor like a frightened five-year-old, curling up into a ball as Freakshow stood above her, "Let's face it; you not exactly skinny, you're not all that smart and you're don't exactly have the best wit! All though, you sure are a spoiled brat."

"Are you going to kill me?"

"What?" Freakshow looked down at his ex-girlfriend. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

Her breathing shallow, Vicky wept, "Are you gonna kill me?"

This actually seemed to confuse Freakshow. He scratched his head and mused, "Would I kill you? Hmmm, well, killing you would be _a lot _easier." He pulled something out of his red robe pocket. It was the same gun Devon had tried to reach for before the psycho killed him. Freakshow was actually intrigued by its make; a desert eagle with a gold titanium covering. Vicky screamed and covered her eyes when Freakshow aimed it at her, commenting, "All I gotta do is point and..."

_Bang!_

"Aaaaggghhh!" Vicky screamed as loud as she could upon hearing the gunshot. Strangely, she was not in any pain. She removed her hands from her eyes and saw that Freakshow had fired up into the ceiling and was laughing hysterically at the girl's show of terror.

"Ah, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!" Freakshow howled in a fit of cackling laughter, throwing open his arms and his head back. He then pointed the desert eagle behind him without looking and _bang! _Freakshow shot the stereo, ceasing the salsa music and leaving only the sound of his own laughter at Vicky's panting in the bunker. "You should have seen your face! You were all like..." He put on a fake girly scream, _"Eeeiiikk! _Ha, ha, ha!" His laughter stopped instantly and looked at Vicky plainly, "But no, I won't kill you!"

"Really?" Vicky put her foot on the floor and did her best to bring herself onto both feet.

Freakshow grabbed her hand and quickly yanked her up onto her shaking feet, sneering, "Of course I wouldn't kill you." He picked her pale cheek with his now sharp nails. "You may be a vicious little bitch, Vikally, but I'm sure I've still got a small place in my cold shrivelled heart for you." He jabbed his thumb to Devon's lifeless body, snickering, "You all way said you'd like to date a 'wild card', well, baby...I'm a whole wild deck!" He paused briefly, then asked, "Bad joke?"

"I can't say it's one of the top five I've ever heard."

He tapped his chin with the desert eagle gun, "Yeah...I'm still working with my joke book."

"Still, thank you for deciding to, you know, not 'off' me. Thank God..." Vicky placed her hand on her chest in relief. She edged away, heading for the elevator as she giggled, still obviously frightened, "Well, now that's taken care of, I think I'll just get out of you're hair and..."

"Not so fast!" _Bang! _Freakshow shot the desert eagle in her direction, the bullet narrowly missing the left side of her face. "You ain't going anywhere!"

"What else do you even want from me?!" Vicky was getting frantic. There was one possibility why he wanted her to stay that kept appearing into her study of imagination. One that would scare the living daylights out of any teenage girl.

"I want you..." Freakshow approached her until his face was so close with hers that he could have kissed her. He reached out his hand and Vicky feared he was going to touch her in an area she was praying he wouldn't. However, this time, luckily for Vicky, he pointed to something far away from what she feared. "...to help me get rid of the stiff." Freakshow was actually pointing his index at the now _very _pale corpse of Devon Yexley, which was still slumping on the chair nearby.

"No!" Vicky rejected this order. Helping dispose a corpse was one of the last things she wanted on her conscience! But the moment Freakshow held the desert eagle up between her eyes, she changed her attitude in an instant. "Okay, let's get some gloves."

"I knew you would turn around with the _right _motivation." He then pulled two pairs of gloves out of his pocket and handed one pair to Vicky. "Here. You get the body. I need to go get some stuff." After putting his gloves on, he ran over to several drawers and began opening all of them, as if looking for them.

"What are you looking for?" Vicky slid her gloves over her fingers and looked over the dead body of Devon. She felt so spooked out. It wasn't like she had seen a dead before. But to possibly save her own life, she had best do what Freakshow instructed her. Then maybe he would let her off, hopefully...

Meanwhile, Freakshow had found the drawer he had been looking for. He slid the drawer open, revealing it to contain several spray paint cans. "Oooh, perfect. Just perfect!" He squealed like a child Who at a candy store.

"Spray paints?" Vicky queried, looking for something to cover up Devon's body. She saw a blue cotton blanket and gently laid it over the corpse, careful not to touch it with her fingers, despite the fact she was wearing gloves. "Jojo, what do you need them for?"

"I'm gonna make some art, darling!" was Freakshow's toothy reply, shaking a purple spray paint can a bit in his gloved hands. "Oh, and Vicky _please..._call me Freakshow."

* * *

An hour passed by and Dr. Larue finally emerged from the hospital building, holding a file within a brown folder under her right arm, looking far past downcast. Horton and co. were talking with Commissioner Martyn about the locations where Jojo has been searched for and where to search next. Sally was sitting next to Ned of the police car roof while drinking a cup of latté, the latter starting to feel a little bit better with his wife here to console him.

Upon seeing the scientist, Ned jumped up immediately from the car roof, accidentally knocking Sally's drink off as well. He ran up to Dr. Larue at top notch speed, "Dr. Larue, do you have them?!" He was followed by Sally, who was bitterly wiping the latté Ned accidentally spilt on her.

"Yes, I have them." Dr. Larue did not have a hint of optimism in her voice.

"Is something wrong?"

Dr. Larue's answer to that question was handing the Mayor the brown folder containing Jojo's brain wave results. He opened it up with the Dr. standing next to him; it was Jojo's complete medical file. He saw a picture of Jojo and paper with all kinds of medical data sheets rammed into the brown folder.

"Uhhhh..." Ned really could not understand all this medical mumbo jumbo. "Do you think you could clear up all this...?" Dr. Larue moved a few pages of the medical file past to a couple of blue pieces of paper, showing waves with erratic and unstable amplitudes and wavelengths. "That's...that's not a good thing isn't it?" The scientist the pulled an A3 piece of paper out of the corner in front of the brainwave sheets.

"These are all the symptoms of his...new outlook on life." Dr. Larue gave the sheet to the Mayor.

Ned read this sheet over a few times, saying very quietly to himself, "Violent mood swings, Intermittent Explosive Disorder, emotionally unstable, prone to fits of laughter, mild schizophrenia... basically the full wacko profile." He finished groaning, putting the A3 sheet back into the file. "I don't see how this could get any worse."

Sally took the file and stroked the picture of Jojo, sniffling, "My poor baby. How could this have happened to him?"

Dr. Larue sadly shook her head, stating, "I guess some people just have the worst luck in life. Jojo never deserved what happened to him." She rubbed at her sinuses for what seemed to be a mild headache and then said, putting her hands in her night robe pockets, "This psychological damage obviously originated from the trauma he experienced from the incident and the shock of seeing his new face. The mind can only take so much before it..." she snapped her fingers, "...goes berserk. But it is a strong possibility that the chemicals themselves did some damage." Her expression then turned concerned as Sally handed the file, "All though, some of it could be traced to early life...did Jojo have any social problems when he was younger?"

Sally had to confess that Jojo's life hadn't been a bed of roses just prior to incident, "There was...this small period of time when he had taken up drinking from peer pressure. But that was only for a month and he didn't drink too much to make him a drunk. And when he gained all that weight, he didn't have the best school life. But...I don't think that could have contributed _that _much to his damaged mind."

"Hmmm, I was thinking more along the lines before we discovered we're all living on a speck. Before our lives were all changed."

"Well...he didn't talk much at all." Ned admitted, looking down at his feet. "After the whole clover thing, Jojo admitted that that was all because he didn't want to say something to disappoint me. I can't honestly say I didn't put pressure on him, what with him being first line to be the next Mayor." He then looked at Dr. Larue worriedly, "You...you don't think that...that might have added to psychological problems even _before _what happened in the factory?" The last thing he wanted to find out was that he was partly responsible for his son going wacko.

"That I can't say for certain if that was part of the gun powder, Mr. Mayor." Dr. Larue told the Mayor wisely. "But what I _can _say for certain is that what happened in the factory was the spark that set off the explosion!"

Listening in on the conversation, Horton, Yummo, Morton and Commissioner Martyn joined the group. The Commissioner rubbed the back of his head and explained to Ned, "If this is the case, Mr. Mayor, then you realise that we must retrieve him if extreme measures are called for?"

Ned looked at his troubled wife and at the Commissioner of police, "Do all what you consider necessary, Commissioner."

As the Commissioner pulled out his communicator to address this new order to the police officers, a beeping noise came from the communicator Horton was still holding in his truck. "I got that." Sally told Morton, before the mouse sped down the trunk to answer it. She pressed the blue bottom of the communicator, making a connection with whom else but Vlad.

_"Hello, Horton. This...this is Vlad...over." _Judging by the black-bottom eagle's tone of voice, something seemed very wrong.

"Vlad, are you all right? You sound like you've just met up with your ex-mate. Over." Horton asked his Russian friend concerned. Had something bad happened?

There was a pause until Vlad responded, his voice was now shaking, _"Lt. Knox and I have found something you might find...interesting. And...and...Oh, my God, I can't look at this much longer! Over!"_

"Vlad, what is it?! What have you found?!" Ned took the communicator and yelled into it.

_"Just...just get down here in between the buildings of uh...37 and 38 of um...Siverwater Street. Just prepare yourselves. This is something that will take a lot of stomach to even look at. Over." _With that, Vlad hung up, not saying another word.

Ned looked at everyone standing around him and ordered, "You heard him, everyone! Let's move!"

* * *

Meanwhile, Vlad had just turned off his communicator, still staring up at the spectacle on the filthy stone wall in the alley between the two buildings. The black-bottom eagle had thought he had seen it all before in his life. He had seen small animals be torn apart limb by limb and giant predators' great legacies end with their tragic deaths. He had never seen anything like this before. This was just plain sick...

Lt. Knox was standing next to Vlad, the cup of coffee that was previously in his hand had dropped to the filthy concrete floor. He took his hat off his head and his mouth gaped enough for his cigar to just slip out of his lips. After so many years on the force, thought he had seen it all like Vlad, but not something like this...nothing like this...

"Dear sweet lord..." Lt. Knox tipped his fedora upwards to see the spectacle clearly through the faint drizzle of rain.

On the wall of the alley was the lifeless body of a young green teenage Who. His body had been punctured by five bullets and he was being held up by ropes tied around his wrists leading up to the drainpipes at the top of the building. Above his head was the killer's 'calling card'. It was a large line of purple spray paint made to look like a big grin. Sprayed above the purple 'grin' was a large green circle of spray paint with a left flick on top to make it look wicked. Next to the large green 'wicked eye' was a smaller circle of bright yellow spray paint made to look like a normal eye. Finally, above this 'calling card' in rustic red was one word; _'Freakshow'._

* * *

5:30 AM in the morning...

In light grey room on a smooth wood table, a _Ferguson _television switched on to the news channel, showing the first of many repeats of the morning news. A male Who dressed in a brown suit and blue tie stood behind a desk and shuffled his papers.

_"Good morning, this is anchorman Kurt Kastabomb of the Whoville News." _The anchorman introduced himself and then continued on with the dreaded news. _"Unfortunate news has reached Whoville today. As of late last night, Jojo McDodd, son of Mayor Ned McDodd and next in the mayoral line had escaped from the Whoville hospital, after being held in a mental padded cell. It had been reported that Jojo McDodd is in a current derranged state of mind from the trauma of his recent incident and seeing his disfigured face." _A small image of a silhouetted Jojo appeared next to Kastabomb with a large question mark in the middle.

The scene changed to that off outside the Whoville hospital building, with Commissioner Martyn standing before a news reporter. He spoke uneasily, putting his hand up, _"We have not yet been able to track down the location of Jojo McDodd nor have we had any sightings of him since his escape. However, we police will be searching for him in the North and South city areas of Whoville. If we cannot find him there, we will be searching the West and East and so forth."_

The scene turned back to that of Kastabomb, who now said cautiously, _"This is a warning to all those watching: Jojo McDodd is extremely dangerous. Repeat: extremely dangerous. We have not had an official image of McDodd's recently deformed face. But by order of police, we at Whoville news studio are to alert you with standard procedure. If you see a teenage, possibly 16-year-old Who with an extremely disfigured face, do NOT approach him!" _The numbers 9-1-2 appeared before him on screen in bright red. _"Call 9-1-2 immediately!" _He gestured left off-camera, _"We now turn you to co-anchor, Dick Snively."_

The camera moved left to the co-anchor, Dick Snively, who was wearing glasses, a grey suit and red tie. "Thanks, Kurt." He then looked at the camera, _"And if that was not enough to shock you people, two hours after Jojo McDodd's escape from the Whoville hospital, three time Whoville Annual Junior Champion Golf Tour, Devon Yexley..." _an image of Devon Yexley in his golf uniform holding his driver club over his shoulder appeared to the right of Snively, _"...was found dead, tied up by ropes to the alleyway wall in between 37 and 38 Silverwater street. Forensics shows that he was shot five times in the chest from a pistol gun." _The picture of the five bullets that were taken out Devon in a plastic bag replaced the picture of the golfer Devon.

Kastabomb nodded and said, resting his arm on the desk, _"When Devon Yexley was found, a brown file filled with incriminating leverage was discovered within the night robe he was wearing at the time." _A couple of pink and white papers appeared in front of the screen, replacing Kastabomb and Snively. _"Found inside the file were a number of paperwork concerning the plans and accounting papers of drug heists and shipments, graffiti vandalism and arson. Along with these was membership list of several Whos 18-26, many of which have criminal records and are being rounded up and arrested as we speak." _

Snively's voice took over, _"These files and paperwork are enough to confirm that Devon Yexley, after three years of accusation and suspicion, was indeed the Boss of a teenage crime syndicate. The rest of the Yexley family have claimed that they had no idea that was indeed true, but police are currently looking into it."_

The pictures of the files and paperwork disappeared to show Kastabomb and Snively once again. Kastabomb continued, _"But what is currently baffling the police is the true identity of Mr. Yexley's killer. But it would seem that Yexley's assailant had left his calling card..." _The camera changed to a picture of the large spray paint 'grin' and 'Freakshow' on the wall Lt. Knox and Vlad had found Devon, after the body of the latter had been removed.

_"Police believe that this killer, named Freakshow by the picture's namesake, was either a vigilante trying to take Yexley down once and for all or a rival mob boss." _Snively narrated after the camera switched back to him and Kastabomb. _"Some of the news papers believe that this 'Freakshow' is in league with the psychotic hospital escapee Jojo McDodd, the latter known to have had a bad relationship with Devon Yexley. They are even considering the possibility that Jojo McDodd was in fact the killer of Devon Yexley, but using the alias 'Freakshow' to cover his tracks."_

Kastabomb took over, _"So that leaves us with two puzzling questions. Freakshow: friend or foe? And Freakshow and Jojo McDodd: no connection, possible accomplices or worst yet...one in the same?" _He said the last part with in deep baritone. _"More on these shocking stories as they develop."_

_Bang!_

The television screen exploded from the powerful gunshot from across the table, shocking all those sitting along side the left and right of the table out. All these Whos were members of the executive board of the deceased Devon's entire crime syndicate. Claude, who was standing at the end of the table with the shooter, had made contact with these executives for the meeting in the conference room of the bunker at 5:00 AM. They had all thought it was Devon that had ordered the meeting, hoping by _New Management _he would be naming one of them as his successor. But these criminal teenage Whos were surprised when they saw someone else sitting in their boss' chair. The executives had no idea what had happened to Devon and to stop them from open fire on him, this self-proclaimed successor showed them the news to explain all. Not many of the executives looked at him directly; they couldn't bear to what with his appearance.

Vicky Vikally was standing up straight next to Devon's self-proclaimed successor, looking pale and shaking. He had promised her he would let her go after helping dispose of Devon's body in the act, but he changed his mind the moment the deed was done and they disposed of the gloves. She wasn't allowed to call her parents to even lie about where she was staying over the night, because _he _didn't want to take any chances. Vicky bit her nails, knowing full well that after the top stories, her disappearance would have been reported. She could imagine parents worrying right now over her safety, especially when they hear that her date had been brutally killed. They might even think she could be in danger, as well. To some extent, she all ready was.

The self-proclaimed successor sat comfortably in Devon's chair, holding the smoking titanium gold covered desert eagle tight in his fist. He was dressed in clothing he stole from Devon's closet in the bunker. It took a little while, but he found something that really suited him, despite it was only half a size big for him. He was wearing a black long sleeve shirt with red stripes, black trousers and a tie that was designed to look like a green venomous snake. Over this he wore a red vest and above that a long rough charcoal blazer with a blood red lining on the inside. On his hands he wore thick leather gloves with holes for his sharp yellow nails and on top of his head, he wore a bowler hat, the same he took from Claude last night.

Freakshow lowered the desert eagle under the table, "So ladies and gentlemen that is how it is." He took a folded up document from out of his trench coat and held it up for the executives to see. "With Devon now...pushing up daisies, as his assailant, I inherit his entire crime syndicate and all the assets that come with it." He dropped the document onto the table, opened it up and pointed to a section of typing. "It's all here on his guide lines."

"Let me see that." The portly moustached male executive, aged around 20, took the guide lines document and began reading them over, while putting on a pair of reading glasses. After he was finished, he frowned in disappointment, "Well, you're telling the truth, I can say that."

"Thank you." Freakshow snatched the documents back, folded them up and shoved them back in his trench coat. "So, like it or not, I am herby acting Boss."

A female executive from midway across the table stuck her head forward and looked at Freakshow with disapproval, "And what could someone like you possibly do with this organisation?"

"Glad you asked." Freakshow grasped his hands together. "With Devon out of the way, this organisation now has the chance to actually go somewhere." He raised his slightly tipped over bowler hat so they could see his face fully. "Our goal is, before this year is out...we are going to run Whoville into the ground until the Mayor and the city council surrender total control of the city to us."

This caused a low chorus of murmurs between the executives, until one of them at the very end stood up angrily. He was a tall muscular 25-year-old Who wearing a blue suit and pants and a black and red spotted tie. He had a bowl haircut and scraggly beard and moustache.

"You are a fool, McDodd!" He had a distinct French accent in his voice. "We are an organisation of criminals, not terrorists!"

Freakshow shrugged nonchalantly, "Eh, criminals, terrorists, not that much of a difference, Mr..." He looked at the French Who questionably, "I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"Pierre Dante."

"Okay, Mr. Dante..." Freakshow stood up from his chair and walked along side the table to Dante. "I admit trying to control of the city like a bunch of comic super villains does sound a bit...unlike the usual agenda and I can respect your opinion."

"Really?" Pierre Dante asked sceptically.

Freakshow had reached Dante and looked up at the Who that was three times his size. All though it appeared that Dante was the one with the threat here, some of the executives backed off. Something was up and Freakshow was hiding it behind his confident grin.

"Sure." Freakshow chuckled, putting his hands up. "We're all friends here. We just have different opinions, different desires, and all that hullabaloo. But if we can't agree on things, that's just rather unfortunate." He then held out his gloved hand. "So we'll just shake hands, go our separate ways and we'll leave it at that."

"Truthfully, McDodd?" Dante looked suspicious, as if he was checking Freakshow's hand over for an electric joy buzzer.

"Truthfully, Dante. No lies."

Cautiously, Dante reached out his hand and shook Freakshow's. Nothing. No tricks or traps. "Well, I am glad we can find a compromise."

"Me too." Without warning, Freakshow yanked down on Dante's hand so that he was at his height. He grabbed the French Who's shoulder and pulled his arm behind the back. "Psych!"

_Bang! Bang! Bang!  
_

Freakshow had pulled out his desert eagle, which had actually been in his pocket and shot Dante three times in the back; right behind the latter's heart! Vicky, Claude and the executives gasped and edged back, mortified at this sudden homicide.

As Dante's corpse fell to the floor, Freakshow took off his own bowler hat and waved it in front of his face. "Wooh, Dante, Dante, Dante. I guess this frog got fried!" He laughed out loud and stuffed the desert eagle back into his pocket.

"What the Hell is wrong with you man?! Are you insane?!" A scrawny straw-haired Who executive jumped up and pointed furiously at Freakshow. Devon was a calm and talkative Boss, but this guy was a total nut case!

"Claude..." Freakshow groaned, running his fingers down his face, who all ready had an idea what the Boss was telling him.

_Blam!_

Claude had pulled out his GP35 and shot the scrawny executive in the head! His head fell down on the table with a low groan, blood slowly pouring out from the side onto the surface.

Freakshow put his hands behind his back and strolled back to the end of the table in front of his chair. His mood turned seething angry and he spread his hands along the table. The disfigured Who looked from the executives on the left to the ones of the right, saying icily, "Now, do all of you see what kind of things happen when we **don't **get along?!" They all nodded, either stunned or frightened. "Thank you!" He yelled, exasperatedly. "Now listen up, I am still a reasonable Who here. So I am willing to give you all a good 15 to make up your minds of where your loyalties will lie." Freakshow moved past his chair and walked out of the conference room door with Vicky and Claude following behind him, slamming the door behind them.

The executives looked at each other nervously. They were all in a no-win situation. Either they swore their loyalty to some homicidal psychopath or lose their lives.

* * *

Outside, Freakshow tossed his bowler hat onto the hat stand and began running his hands through his multi-coloured hair. He growled, at the edge of his patience, "Why is it that useful help is so hard to find these days?!" He marched up to the desk at the far end of the room and punched his fist onto the desk. The disfigured Who glared up at the portrait of Devon, which he had defiled with spray paint cans to look like a clown. Freakshow narrowed his eyes and began speaking to the portrait darkly, "Look at you...yuck!" He said, repulsed by the portrait's hideousness. "Look at your face!" Seeing a stapler on the desk, he picked it up and folded it open, "And I bet you wouldn't look too good with a stapler on your head!!" He lugged the stapler at Devon's portrait, but it rebounded right and was sent spinning right back at Freakshow. "Oh, no we don't..."

Freakshow ducked in the nick of time, allowing the stapler to fly right over him. Unfortunately, Vicky had only noticed it coming toward her until it was too late. "Owww!" The back part of the stapler hit her right in the face.

"Ah, ya should've ducked when you had the chance." Freakshow scoffed, not caring at all for Vicky's welfare. He looked at Claude, who was busy drinking diet cola and shouted, **"Claude!"**

Claude caught off guard by the new Boss' sudden outburst, spat out his cola and looked at Freakshow and straightened like a soldier receiving orders, "Y-yes, Sir!

Freak pocketed his hands and walked up to his goon, saying as he jerked his head to the door that lead into the conference room, "Your...your friends. They're not...not the kind of lackeys who take whatever order you give them. They don't even try and kiss-up."

"Yeah, they're kinda free-thinkers."

"Well, free-thinkers are not the kind of Whos I want working for me."

"I see..." Claude rubbed the back of his head, "So...you want to get a new executive board?"

"No, I want a new pair of bunny slippers." Freakshow rolled his eyes sarcastically, but then snapped harshly, "Of course I want a new executive staff, you idiot!"

Claude put his hands up defensively, "Okay, okay. I'll go tell them they're all fired." Claude was about to go and do this, until Freakshow jumped in front of him, stopping the towering Who in his tracks.

"NO! No, no, no, no." Freakshow gestured Claude to lower his face to his, who obliged. "In my organisation, when you join it, you are members until _death. _Now, I don't want any possible squealers running around Whoville, who might one day pluck up enough courage to inform the cops Jojo McDodd and Freakshow are on in the same."

"Oh, so you want me to..." Claude made an impression of himself getting hanged, making Freakshow nod.

"Are there any weapons in that room?"

Claude then whispered to the very small Who, "No weapons. But Devon installed this mechanism into the room that made highly toxic bug gas vent out of the ventilation shafts. You know, whenever we had an infestation."

Freakshow's grin widened maliciously, "Good, because I think we _do _have a _large _infestation in the conference room at the very moment." He frowned seriously, "Now get on with it."

The tall Who nodded, knowing what to do. He ran off to the control panel next to the door to the conference, getting to work. As Freakshow watched this, Vicky, who was rubbing her sore head, walked up to him with a sweet look.

"Uh, sweetie...?" Vicky said, with a large false grin.

"Yes?"

Vicky twiddled her fingers together, saying with caution not to anger Freakshow, "I was just wondering...that since my parents are probably worrying about me, I...should be heading home...now?"

Freakshow sighed tiredly and rested his arms on the desk, while still facing Vicky, "Vicky...baby, I would actually _like _to let you off and go back home. I would. I really, really would. However, as you remember..." He took something off the desk. It was photos of her helping him tying Devon's body onto the wall on which he was found. "...I conveniently noticed how lovely you looked in the moonlight and decided to take a few pictures." When he held them up to her, Vicky gulped in worry. He continued, "You helped me take care of a stiff, so I'm afraid you're just in too deep to be let off with a clean plate. The cops might somehow get their hands on these." He tucked the photos into his blazer. "Believe me; I'm actually trying to help rebuild our relationship here. You can't call me a bad guy on that account."

"But...but..." Tears were now leaking out the edges of Vicky's eyes.

"Now, now." Freakshow cupped Vicky's face in his gloved hands and flicked away her tears. "I'll make sure you're taken care of. I can even make you my mistress and if you're lucky, you can be on the executive board. Ya like that?" Vicky had no other option but to nod. "Good girl. But you might wanna get one of our medics to sort that out." He gestured to the bruise on her head that resulted from the stapler hitting her head.

"Okay." Vicky whispered quietly, nodding slowly.

He patted her head, "Nice to see we have an understanding. Now lets put a smile on that face." Freakshow put his finger on the ends of her lips and forced her mouth into a painful smile. "Much better. Now, you really need to get something to cool you down. Perhaps a wine."

Vicky nodded the forced grin still on her face and walked off to the nearest alcohol cabinet to get herself a drink. All though, it was clear she was crying on the inside.

Snickering to himself, Freakshow strode over to Claude, who had locked the doors to the conference room. He was now typing in a sequence to initiate the bug spray that would kill off the executives. "All ready, Sir. You want to do the honours?"

"Why thank you. I believe I will." Freakshow slowly pressed down on the activation key. When he at first heard nothing, Freakshow glared at Claude, "What's taking so long?"

"Give it a minute, Sir." There was a moment's silence, until a low humming noise emitted from the conference room. Another few seconds of silence until a hissing news grew louder and louder.

"Three...two...one..." Freakshow could only stifle his laughter for so long. When he heard the blood-curdling screams of the dying executives banging on the locked doors, the psycho walked off to a large jukebox nearby in the bunker, laughing hysterically and sadistically. "Oh, God, I need some music to lighten the mood." He pressed a few keys on the control pad and shortly Prince's _Partyman _began drowning out the executive's dying screams.

_All hail - the new king in town_

_Young and old, gather 'round (yeah)_

_Black and white, red and green (funky)_

_The funkiest man U've ever seen_

"That's _much _better!" Freakshow laughed, leaning on the jukebox and nodded his head to music. When he finally heard the chorus of 'thumps' of the executives dropping dead, Freakshow moaned in relief, whispering to himself, _"Finally."  
_

"Sorry about the mess in there, Sir. I'll have the janitor clear 'em up." Claude told his new Boss, folding his arms.

"Very good." Freakshow then took a glass of wine from Vicky, who was still grinning painfully in front of her obvious sadness. "Thank you, Vick." He downed the wine and tossed the glass to the floor, shattering it to millions of pieces. "I'm seriously gonna have to consider incinerating corpses. At least then it's a quicker way of waste disposal. Gah, ha, ha, ha, haaa!"

* * *

**(A/N) And I will end it there! Now Freakshow has become the new face and top guy in crime. I hope this chapter showed a few good examples of his sadistic cruelty. I am also pretty proud of how I had Jojo/Freakshow treat Vicky and his obsession and constant use of guns. Anyway, in the next chapter, Freakshow defines himself to the rest of Whoville that he is now the biggest threat to the town. How? You will have to wait and see, I guess. Read and Review!**


	6. Chapter Five: Whoville's biggest threat

**(A/N) All right, everyone, I am back with chapter five. Now, this chapter is where Freakshow takes his stand and defines himself to Whoville as its new biggest threat. How does he do it? Well, read on and see for yourselves.**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

**Whoville's biggest threat**

That morning in Whoville was shrouded within the darkness of the clouds above it. Every Who had seen the news that morning and all were scared out of their wits or at least shaken. None of them were prepared for news such as this. The insane Jojo McDodd's escape from the hospital, the murder of the uncovered Crime Boss Devon Yexley and worse of all...the fact that the homicidal Freakshow was living among them.

No Who that morning felt the same whimsical joy in his or her heart they would feel normally every day. Many felt as if Freakshow could jump right out of the corner at any moment and shoot or stab them in the back. If he had killed Devon without a second thought, who was to say that he would not kill another...and another...and another? Who was to say that this Freakshow was not going to make a sick habit out of this killing until he was satisfied? Even the politicians and police forces were showing their worry and concern. This Freakshow matter was not something they could just cover up, it was right on the front page. In fact, at 11:35 that morning, in the Mayor's office at Town Hall, a meeting on the case of Freakshow was being held...

* * *

"Say this..." City Council Chairman Vonfrood slammed the newspaper on the Mayor's desk angrily, making the latter flinch slightly. "Deranged psychopath at large!"

"Oh, just take it easy, Vonfrood." Ned groaned, rubbing his temples as he leaned back in his chair. Vonfrood had been like this the moment the green Who stormed through the office door with the other councilmen. You could imagine the one member of the city council who constantly wanted to keep things in line in Whoville would go ballistic upon hearing a killer was on the loose.

"How do you expect me to take it easy when we have an armed homicidal maniac Who roaming around Whoville!" Vonfrood was pulsing at the head as he drank a foam cup of water to calm himself. The rest of the council were there in the office as well, looking rather nervous or concerned on this matter. They had all arrived in the Mayor's office the first thing that day after reading the morning newspaper of Devon's murder, Jojo's escape and the mystery of this 'Freakshow'.

"Hey, I don't think this guy is _that _bad. After all, he delivered us the crime boss of the biggest teenage crime syndicate in Whoville." Ned tried to reason with the Chairman, but as usual, to no prevail. "He even gave us all the prove we needed to press charges on his family."

"The Mayor does have a point, Mr. Chairman." A nervous councilman said to Vonfrood from behind him, actually backing the Mayor on this matter, which was a rarity. "This Freakshow fellow did do somewhat of a service for Whoville, if you look at it that way."

Vonfrood glared at the councilman, making him be silent. He then turned back to Ned and scoffed, "Oh, so we are to presume that killing Yexley makes this madman a vigilante who is trying to deliver justice with his own hand, does it?"

"Well, I..."

But the Chairman cut the Mayor off, "Wrong, wrong, wrong! If this 'Freakshow' was a vigilante, he would have delivered Yexley _alive, _not _dead!"_

The shortest of the council members pointed out, "A-and not to forget, be he vigilante or not, he still posses a possible severe threat to Whoville society and must be taken down by the law like any other."

Ned had to admit, the councilmen had him there. "Okay, but we don't even know if this is a one-time thing. You watch, this might be the last time we ever see the word Freakshow is the paper..." He put his finger to his chin and pondered, "...except for the ads for the circus."

"Well, I'll be jumping for joy if it is, but still, he has to be arrested." Vonfrood harrumphed as he began searching for something in his pocket, "That is why we must focus most of the police attention and resources on capturing this 'Freakshow' or at the least, deducting his identity." He found what he had been looking for and placed it over the newspaper, "And we all ready have a prime suspect for this 'Freakshow's' identity." It was a picture of a pre-disfigured Jojo. "Your own son, McDodd!"

Ned had actually been expecting this from Vonfrood, ever since he had seen the news and the meeting had been called. The press had been trying to connect Jojo to Freakshow as accomplices or even one in the same. This was most likely because the mentally damaged Jojo escaped just a few hours before Freakshow appeared. He frowned and stood up from his chair, telling Vonfrood crossly, "Now let's get something straight, Victor; my son is _not _Freakshow! I don't know if you think this because of your and my rocky relationship, but you've got to get actual proof before you accuse my son of something like this!"

Vonfrood sneered and began pacing up in down in front of Ned's desk. "Then maybe we should take a look at the facts that are starring right at you in the face! The night your son escaped from the hospital while armed, this Freakshow makes his gory debut!"

One of the councilmen added as he began reading through a familiar brown file, "And second of all, judging by your son's medical file, his accident at _Who Chem Inc. _left him with extreme psychological damage." He ran his finger down the list of symptoms and concluded, "It says it would even drive him to the point of _homicidal. _Even to the extent of this Freakshow's homicidal tendencies, hmm?"

"And we have just taken this into account before this meeting begun..." Another of the councilmen walked up and began turning the pages of newspaper all ready on the desk. It was a picture of Vicky Vikally. "Do you recognize this girl, Mr. Mayor?"

Ned looked at the picture of Vikally carefully and recognized her in no time, "That's...that Vikally girl. She used to be...Jojo's girlfriend. Wh-what is she doing in the paper?"

Vonfrood picked up Jojo's photo and set it right down next to Vikally's picture. "Last night, she went missing and has not been seen since. Her parents said she was visiting no one else but...Devon Yexley."

"Well, this Freakshow couldn't have killed her." Ned said, taking the photo of Jojo and the newspaper with Vicky's picture so he could see them for himself. "She would have probably been found dead with Devon."

"Then what do you think happened to her then?" Vonfrood was actually using this method to trick Ned.

"This Freakshow...kidnapped her?"

"Sounds feasible enough." He then tapped his chin in a pondering manner, "Now whoever in Whoville would _want _to kidnap this girl?" He then pretended an idea that he had all ready thought of just came into his mind. He then grinned widely, but then frowned severely as he continued, "Oh, I know one! Your son, who as it has been said, had never gotten over his break-up with Vikally. And why not, he is just mental enough to be capable of kidnapping as well as committing homicide!"

"All right, all right! I get the point!" Ned waved his hand in frustrated. He wasn't doing so well in defending against Jojo being Freakshow at the moment. The facts from the councilmen were just pouring in like a flood. But luckily, Ned had one question that could maybe help his case. "But you're all forgetting one important thing; the motive! Why would Jojo want to kill Devon, anyway? I mean, okay, they sure didn't get along, but why kill him?"

"I do not know a great deal about the criminal mind, McDodd." Vonfrood crossed his arms, but retained his frown, "But the best explanation would be that his newfound madness finally drove him to silence the little brat for good." He pounded his fist into his other, remarking, "Believe me, don't think I haven't fantasised ringing that little whelp around the neck for all the trouble he has given us before."

"When you put it that way, it all most sounds as if you're thankful that Freakshow killed Devon." Ned noted, smirking to himself a bit.

Vonfrood rolled his eyes, "I can't say I feel sorry for his parents for their loss." He then shook his head and frowned sternly once again, "But that aside, homicide is still a major crime and your son must pay the consequences for it."

_"If _it is him." Ned reminded irritably.

The Chairman ran his fingers down his own face, asking, "You are _still _not convinced, are you?"

"Never."

Vonfrood threw his hands up into the air at wits end and looked at the councilmen, "So be it. This meeting is over." He then began walking towards the office door, the councilmen in tow and telling Ned as they departed, "Believe what you wish to believe, McDodd." He opened the door for the councilmen to walk out before him. Vonfrood then walked through the door and gave Ned one last question, "But before you make up your mind, ask yourself this: whom are you trying to convince? Me or you?" And with that, he slammed the door behind him, leaving Ned supposedly alone.

Ned now just sat there by himself, taken by surprise by Vonfrood's query. Now, that was a very hard question. Even if Vonfrood had not left right after asking it, the Mayor would still not have had an answer. Ned knew in his heart that Jojo could not have been this homicidal lunatic in the papers and news, but deep within his mind, something kept telling him otherwise. He had known Jojo for the whole 16 years of the teenage Who's life. To Ned, Jojo was quiet and shy, but well-meaning Who that would never consider hurting another. The fact that his own son had ruthlessly killed Devon Yexley was as unlikely as meeting someone who hates green eggs and ham. But Ned wondered, when one's mind was critically damaged, that Who could then be trapped within a world where rules, right or wrong applied. Hence, Jojo could do something extreme...like homicide.

"No...no. It's not true." Ned repeated to himself. He began walking in circles around his desk. "I know my son well enough to..." He stopped upon saying that. He remembered that the fact was he didn't know Jojo that much at all, at least until the clover incident. That was only around six, nearly seven months ago.

"Ya havin' trouble, Ned?" A voice spoke up from nowhere, making the Mayor yell out in surprise and turn around. It had really caught the Mayor off guard, especially since he was supposed to be the only one in the office.

After a moment, Ned recognized the voice and groaned, put his hand on the desk, "Morton, is that you?"

A quick blue blur dropped down from the ceiling and landed on the desk. It was indeed Morton, leaning on the coffee mug next to him. "You sure don't forget a voice, McDodd."

"How long have you been listening up there, Morton?"

"Long enough." was Morton's reply. "Jeez, that Chairman is a total jerk."

Ned had to agree with Morton there, "Ooooh, yeah. Total jerk." He paused and then asked the blue mouse. "Morton...do you...do you think what Vonfrood said...was true?"

Morton sighed, sitting down on his behind, "I'd _like _not to believe it's true. But when you look at it, the facts are really pointing in Jojo's direction." He stood up and walked up to Ned's hand, "I mean, the night Jojo goes homicidally berserk and runs off with a pistol, Freakshow appears out of thin air and kills Yexley with a pistol. Seems all too convenient, doesn't it?"

"You're right." Ned walked back around the desk and slumped down deep in his chair. "But...he's my only son, Morton." He took something out of his vest pocket. It was his custom-made wallet that folded out to show each a photo of Sally, his 96 daughters and Jojo. He held the photo of Jojo up and looked at it affectionately, "I remember the day he was born. He looked up at me with those big shining eyes...and punched me in the right eye."

"He...punched you in the eye?" Morton asked dryly, looking at the Mayor with an arched brow.

"Yeah." Ned then searched his wallet for a certain photo. When he found it, he should it to Morton. It was the very photo of Ned holding a day out Jojo with a black right eye. "He was quite the little bruiser when he was a little kid. But he grew out of it, most likely when he was old enough to know that he would have the big responsibility of being Mayor when he was grown-up." Ned then frowned as he put the picture back and looked at the old picture of the quiet and secretive Jojo. "But then he went all quiet, not wanting to say anything to disappoint me."

"Well, it shows he really does care about you." Morton reassured, zipping up onto Ned's shoulder as he too looked at the picture of the silent Jojo.

Ned tucked all the pictures back into his wallet as he said, "Yeah, but I still think things would have been better if I hadn't put so much pressure on him about being Mayor."

Morton nodded and asked, "Well, maybe, but things got better after the big clover incident, right?"

"Oh, sure, but only for a while." Ned remembered what happened shortly afterwards, something he did not like recalling. "But then came that whole incident with alcohol."

Morton cocked his head, "Alcohol? You mean that liquid that if you drink too much of, it messes with your mind and body?"

"That's right."

"We've got something similar to that in Nool. It's a special kind of liquid you squeeze out of the bright blue and orange spotted flower." Morton explained to the Mayor, while scratching his own chin. "It makes you feel relaxed and can even help you get to sleep. But if you drink too much of it, you start to hallucinate and..." The blue mouse then made a goofy expression and stuck his tongue out.

Ned's eyes widened a bit, "Well...then that's kind of alcohol and a drug."

"Really? Wow, and here I thought those freaky mushrooms were the only junk that could really be classified as drugs in Nool."

Ned really thought of it best to move on with the topic, keeping Morton on his shoulder as he did, "Anyway...after he was caught, Jojo started to binge eating to replace the alcohol. Sure, it wasn't bad at first, but boy he started to grow out." He then took one last photo out of his wallet. It was a recent one off an overweight Jojo, his stomach sticking out and an unwrapped chocolate bar in his hand.

"Oooooh..." Morton cringed at the picture of Jojo. "Don't think that would classify as the number one photo in the album."

Putting the picture and his wallet away, Ned agreed, "Yeah, poor Jojo hasn't had the best of luck in his recent years. And now _this!" _He picked up the newspaper and held it up for him and Morton to see. "I know the facts for Jojo being Freakshow are really overwhelming, but why do I keep trying to tell myself he isn't?"

Morton smiled warmly, "Because you really do love him, Ned. Love him enough to believe in him." He then rubbed the back of his neck and said quickly for it not have affect, "...even if it does turn out he is Freakshow."

The Mayor smiled back, "Thanks, Morton." He patted Morton on the head in appreciation. "Because you know, that really helps." He then rolled his eyes and said quickly, "...even if he is Freakshow, which would really be depressing"

"Yeah, well you've got a lot more faith in your kids than I have in mine, that's for sure."

"Uh-huh, that's...wait, what?!" Ned looked at Morton with a greatly surprised look, "You have a son?!"

"Five sons and three daughters, actually." the blue mouse admitted nonchalantly as he shrugged.

"I had no idea." Ned still looked amazed. He would never have thought of Morton to be a father. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying the idea of it is crazy, it's just that you don't look like a family man."

Morton laid down on Ned's furry shoulder, groaning as he recalled his family back home Nool, "You got that right. Okay, sure, the girls are all right and most of the boys are okay. It's just my wife and two oldest sons that drive me mad! Alice's all ways yelling "Morton, why can't you just do something productive for this family, instead of eating?!' and those two boys keep on bugging the hyenas next door. I'm willing to admit the hyenas could handle it a bit more maturely, but the boys are actually the ones who start most of it! Jeez!"

All the while, Ned just sat there and listened to Morton ramble on and on about his life with his family back home in Nool. The stories he told about his sons' escapades both intrigued Ned and somewhat shocked him! To think that one of them even single-handedly started a fire in the west of the jungle of Nool made the Mayor's jaw drop.

"Oh, my goodness, are you serious?!" Ned asked, flabbergasted.

"Yes, definitely serious."

"What were the bats for?!"

"I have absolutely no idea."

But while Ned McDodd and the Morton talked about each other's ups and downs with their family lives, little did either know that a certain villain was soon to make his threat to Whoville known. But until then, let us check upon a certain couple of marsupials and their elephant friend...

* * *

"You gotta hand it to this kid, he sure leaves his mark." Horton was transfixed on the spectacle that was Freakshow's calling card.

The elephant and the two kangaroos had decided to check out this calling card themselves in between 37 and 38 Silverwater street. Kangaroo had insisted to her son that he did not come, but Rudy assured his mother that he would behave and wouldn't cause any problems. It took some convincing, but finally Kangaroo allowed her son to come with her and Horton to check it out, but under the condition that he did exactly as he was instructed and didn't give any guff.

Kangaroo starred at the calling card herself. The purple 'grin', the green 'wicked eye', the yellow 'eye'. It was quite an interesting way of leaving your mark. She narrowed her eyes, "He sure does. But why he used grin is my question? My best guess is that it relates to a face and his is completely messed up."

"That would seem like the most reasonable explanation we have." Horton narrowed his eyes on the calling card, trying his best to look for something else behind it.

What, does Jojo like laughing a lot?" she asked the last question to Rudy, since he was the only one of the entire Noolian group who knew Jojo more.

Rudy shook his head, "Not that I know of. He told me on our way to Mt. Nool that he usually liked silence, except for music. He sure loves music." He then noticed something and frowned up at his mother, "Wait, mom, please don't tell me you think Jojo's Freakshow."

"I'm sorry, Rudy, but you're friend does seem like the perfect candidate for it." Kangaroo told her son flatly, while patting his head, "Everyone can see it, all except for you and Ned." She then looked at Horton for his opinion on whether Jojo was Freakshow, "What about you?"

Horton shrugged and frowned sadly, "I hate to admit it, but it does seem more likely that they're one in the same or at least in cahoots." He saw Rudy's expression. "I know it's not easy to accept, Rudy, but it's not something we can just blank out of our minds. Ned, he...won't accept it. He just can't accept it. He loves Jojo too much to accept it."

Rudy knew that he too couldn't keep denying it forever. Rubbing his eyes, the young Joey stated, giving the calling card another look, "Well then, if it's true, I think I might know why he used this." Horton and Kangaroo stared at him somewhat doubtfully, but he continued, "You see, you guys said that a symptom of his mental damage was that he could lose his grip on reality."

Horton nodded, trying to remember what Dr. Larue called it, "Yeah...they said it was called..." he began rubbing his forehead with his trunk, thinking really hard, "Shezoofrania? No, no. Shizofrena?"

"Schizophrenia, Horton." Kangaroo corrected, who had managed to take account exactly what had been said last night.

Rudy still tried to remain on track, "Well, whatever it was called, the point is it's really the key thing that's making act crazy." He hopped up onto a garbage can so he could reach up and touch the purple 'grin'. "So whatever's weird to us will be perfectly normal to him."

"I see what you're saying." Kangaroo stepped forward, impressed my by son's smart thinking, "This is just a psychological product of his damaged mind. There's no proper meaning for it except for it relating to his severed face and showing he's enjoyed what he's done."

"So you mean he really took _joy _in killing Devon?" Horton asked, arching his eyebrow in surprise at Kangaroo's idea.

"It would seem so." Kangaroo answered, scratching her own ear, "Jojo must have really hated Yexley that much that going insane just gave him enough courage to make a successful attempt on his life."

But Rudy was not convinced, something just didn't make sense. "But why would he make his first job to kill Devon right away? You'd think he would have tried to find somewhere to stay, instead of tracking him down and shooting him. What could make him so obsessed with killing Devon, besides just hating him?"

Kangaroo sighed exasperatedly, "What are you getting at, Rudy?"

"I'm just saying what if there's something we're missing here?"

"Well, if you keep saying it like that, Rudy, you make it sound as if Jojo...had an actual motive for icing Devon besides going mad." Horton was starting to catch on. If Jojo was so absolutely insane, then he could have simply killed anyone he wanted to when he escaped. He only knocked the guard unconscious, not kill him. Why would Jojo have made slaughtering Devon his number one priority? Any completely insane person would not be so organised with what they were doing. Something wasn't right. There was something between Devon and Jojo that they needed to uncover and uncover it they would soon enough.

"It think it's time for us to do some sleuthing..." Rudy picked something up from the lid of the garbage can and put it on his head. It was a filthy blue detective's hat. "Here we go."

"Rudy, please, put that filthy thing down." Kangaroo deadpanned, pointing to the filthy blue hat, "You have no idea where it's been."

Horton looked at hat oddly, "Yeah, it's probably got maggots in it or something."

Rudy huffed and straightened the hat on his head, "Oh, come on, it seems okay to me. It's a little dir-" His eyes then shot open and he screamed, throwing the hat to the ground, "Gaaah! Maggots!" There was indeed several green maggots wiggling out of the hat. The joey hopped right into his mother's pouch and hid his head underneath. "Eeewww!"

"See I told ya." Horton said as he and Kangaroo walked off with Rudy in the latter's pouch. They had to report this possible new lead to Commissioner Martyn.

With Ned in denial and Horton and co. doing some investigation, no one had been expecting what was going to happen in only a few days. When Whos would start to relax and let their guard down, the one they had been waiting for to strike, would play his next move. Not one as simple as a homicide, one much more cold and ruthless...

* * *

_Three days later..._

In the city of Whoville, the chilling cold spread throughout every corner of the city. Small flakes of snow blew down in the wind from the sky, which covered in a think blanket of grey. Few Whos were staying outside, even they could only take so much cold temperature in their fur-covered bodies. Little did they know that this care-free day would soon become part of Whoville's darkest events in their whostory.

Only one Who could be seen in the chilling streets of Whoville, one very small and wearing a charcoal blazer and tipped-over bowler hat. You could not see he was wearing a purple with green stripes over his face. This masked Who was waiting for something on a street corner. He had planned this entire operation for the best of three days. Hours of scanning over the blue prints of the building, hand-picking the appropriate guns and other weaponry and timing each phase of the operation accurately. It all boiled down to this. It was high time to let Whoville know that peace and security in this town was going to be something of the past.

The purple and green masked Who looked at the watch on his wrist in front of his gloved hand. 12:30 AM exactly. He then pulled a black leather covered mobile phone out of the blazer and spoke into it, _"It is time. Proceed with phase one."_

_"Yes, sir." _replied the voice on the other end of the phone. The green and purple masked Who hung up and then tucked the phone back into his blazer pocket. With phase one no underway, all he had to do now was wait for his own pick-up.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the grey blanketed skies above, a black jet soared over a 20-story-tall square building in Whoville. When the jet was right over the building's roof, a Who jumped right out of the open door. He sky-dived down to the building, until he reached behind his back and pulled a cord on his backpack. This released a small black parachute out of his backpack, allowing the Who to glide down safely onto the roof without causing any loud noise to attract any unwanted attention.

After landing on the roof, the Who, whom was masked in yellow and wore a bowler hat had unhooked his parachute. Cracking his stiff neck left and right, he looked up and saw the fuse box nearby on the wall next to the door that lead up to the roof.

"It's time to get to work." The yellow masked Who smirked maliciously as he took off his backpack and walked over to the fuse box. He had better received a decent share of the profits from this endeavour. He was more than willing to shoot one of his comrades if he did not.

* * *

Back with the purple and green stripped masked Who, his waiting had finally paid off. It came in the form of a jet black van, which finally pulled up next to him. Nodding, the masked Who slid open the door of the van and jumped inside, not before checking to see if anyone was watching him

The green and purple masked Who sat himself at the back in between two of his partners in the operation. One was a blue masked bowler hatted Who, possibly a girl and the other an orange masked bowler hatted Who, looking tall and strong. Sitting up in front of the van were two tall and tough red masked and bowler hatted Whos. One of which was at the wheel and the other sat opposite him. They were all in league with each other in this job, the one purple and green mask the leader, of course.

"Are we ready, lady and gentlemen?" The purple and green masked Who looked at each of his associates.

"Yes, sir." Was the reply of each of the four masked Whos. The red masked Who put the pedal to the metal and drove off to their destination: the first bank of Whoville.

The Who in the blue mask looked at the one in purple and green, after looking around the van, "So this is all of us? Just us five doing this one job?"

The red masked driver answered for the purple and green masked Who, "Actually, there is one on the roof, taking care of the fuse box."

"And there's also the pilot who dropped him off." The other red masked Who added, looking back from his chair.

"That makes seven of us who are in this job, which means very tight shares." the blue masked Who criticized to the Who in the purple and green mask.

The purple and green masked Who merely waved his hand, "No need to worry about that. I have the smarts here, I'll figure out how we can split the profits so we all get decent and equal shares." Unknown to the others, he was actually smirking deviously to himself in secret, _"I have my ways."_

* * *

Back with the yellow masked Who, he pulled out a wrench and broke the door to the fuse box open. "Bingo!" He smirked, seeing the many mechanisms inside. "Now how do I turn off the safe lock? Hmm, oh yeah, that's right!" He pulled a long machine gun out of his backpack and began firing right into the fuse box, destroying many of the mechanisms. "There, that should do it." Sometimes, to get the job done, you just had to use old fashioned methods.

* * *

The other five masked Whos had arrived at the first bank of Whoville. It was a fairly tall square building, made of bright white concrete and stone gargoyles perched on the roofs. There was a short set of smooth white steps that led up to a glass revolving door, which was just below a sign which said in golden letters _'1st Bank of Whoville'. _This bank had to have been at least three hundred years old, the exterior of the building looked so ancient and designed so differently from other buildings. A great deal of Whoville's population used this bank, especially the most rich ones. It was, as some crooks would say, "the sweetest plum on the tree".

Parking by the side of the road, the van's doors slid open and out jumped the five masked Whos. Looking at each other first, they all nodded and marched up the steps to the revolving door. "And here...we...go!" The purple and green masked Who stated as he and the others walked slid through the door.

The inside of the bank was vast and wide, the floors made of black and white marble, several ornate pillars reaching from the floors to the ceiling. There were rows upon rows of bank tellers sitting in their small offices that looked out into the wide space of the bank. In front of each bank teller was a long line that even ended with a curve at the end. No one seemed to notice the five masked Whos that stood out from like sore thumbs. They must have been either too busy or just plain didn't care that they were there.

The purple and green masked Who looked up at the orange masked Who and ordered, "Gun."

"Right, Boss." The orange masked Who nodded and pulled something out of his backpack. It was an AK-47 assault rifle, newly made and ready to be put to good use.

"Nice." The purple and green masked Who marvelled the rifle over before pointed it up at the ceiling.

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

The Whos in the building stopped what they had been doing and fell silent as they turned their heads in worry. The purple and green masked Who had shot the rifle into the ceiling to grab their attention. It seemed to have worked very well.

He cleared his throat and lowered the rifle as he said fairly calmly, "Ladies, gentlemen, this is a formal bank robbery." the purple and green masked Who's accomplices pulled out their own firearms. The two red masked were holding heavy machine guns, the orange masked was baring a Beretta while the blue masked carried a double-barrel shotgun. "As you can see, we are armed and hence, very dangerous. Now, we are aware that a bank robbery in Whoville is not common, so we will keep is basic." He walked forward and aimed his rifle at the crowd, along with his associates who aimed their weapons as well. **"Everyone freeze, hand over the money and no one gets hurt!!"**

Now, imagine if you lived in a place just like Whoville where barely anything bad has ever happened in its whostory. A place where a bank robbery was as common as blue snow and the people were all most completely unprepared for one. How would you react to this kind of threat?

The crowd of Whos paused for a brief moment, until their worry immediately escalated into panic. The Whos went into a wild frenzy, screaming hysterically and many waving their arms in the air as they all scattered like cockroaches under a bright light.

**"I said 'FREEZE', you silly little people!" **the purple and green masked Who yelled in frustration. He then looked at the orange masked and asked tiredly, "Why don't they ever freeze?" The orange masked just shrugged. "Well, then, I guess we will have to settle for phase 2.B instead. Mouth masks." All five of the partners pulled out stringed black masks and pulled them over their slightly revealed mouths, now covering their faces completely. Next, they each pulled out small black grenades, pulled the pins off and lobbed them at the panicking crowd.

When nothing seemed to happen, one of the red masked looked at the leader, "Uh, sir?"

"Wait for it." The purple and green mask put his hand up. Shortly, thick black smoke jetted out of the grenades where the pins had been pulled. The smoke began spreading throughout the whole of the vast and wide room. A lot of the Whos stopped running and screaming hysterically, in fact, they started coughing and wheezing. Soon, all the Whos began dropping to the marble floors like floors, remaining motionless in the clearing black smoke, except for the masked ones at the entrance. They just watched the sight casually as if it was just another normal day.

After all the smoke had cleared up and all the unmasked Whos were laying on the floor, the purple and green masked Who spoke up, "Mouth masks off." They all pulled off their mouth masks and breathed in the now clear air.

"Are they dead?" the blue masked Who asked her leader concerned.

"No, my dear, they're just unconscious." The purple and green masked Who told his accomplice. He then walked down the bank with his associates, all of them still holding their guns. The leader pulled out the same black leather covered mobile phone and talked into it, "Have you taken care of the fuse box?"

_"Yes, Boss." _the yellow masked Who over the end phone confirmed. _"I have successfully deactivated the safe lock, the security cameras and that annoying background music they keep playing in the building."_

"Oh, thank God." The purple and green masked Who sighed in relief at the last part. He then asked seriously, "But still, we are safe to proceed, correct?"

_"Correct."_

The purple and green masked chuckled as he took out a blue desk with a red button on top. Holding it in his gloves palm, the leader said darkly, "You have done well, my friend. You'll be rewarded." He pressed the red button on the blue disc firmly.

_Boom!_

A loud thunderous noise sounded from the roof of the bank, shaking the building slightly and making some dust drop from the ceiling. "Installed a bomb in his phone." the leader answered his accomplices before any of them asked looked at the blue masked Who and said, "One less share." He then looked up at the two red masked Whos and instructed them, "You two, take the 'vacuum' and raid as many of the who-dollars as you can."

The two red masked Whos saluted and ran off down the bank to one of the hallways that had the sign _'Safe' _above it. They both held onto their machine guns, but one was carrying something large in his black backpack.

The leader then looked at the orange masked, "You make contact with the pilot to prepare for pick-up." The orange masked did as he was instructed, while walking off a bit and pulling out his mobile phone. The purple and green masked then looked at the blue masked, saying, "Let's leave our mark, shall we?"

The two accomplices ran over to a bare wall, careful not to trip over the unconscious bodies of the Whos. The blue mask set her backpack down and opened it up to reveal spray paint cans, with colours of purple, green and yellow.

"Perfect." the leader picked up the first purple spray can, turned to the bare wall and shook the can, while grinning, "No, no, this won't do. I really should take it upon myself to redecorate." With that, the purple and green masked Who began spraying away with the blue masked watching.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the safe, the red masked Whos slammed open the metal doors and stared in awe at the many tall stacks of who-dollars. Red, purple, green. It was all there. A bank robber's treasures troll in stolen cash. The first red masked Who took off his backpack and set it down beside him. He unzipped it and pulled something large out of it. It looked like a big red box with a large brass horn sticking out one end and a large green sack attached to the other.

"All right, stand back." The first red masked flipped a switch on the red box, causing a whirring noise to emit from it. Holding it up to one of the large stacks of who-dollars, the tapped together notes began flying into the brass horn and filling the green bag. This machine had a high-pressure vacuuming function, making it easy to steal a larger number of notes than by hand.

"God, is there anything the Boss can't build?" The second red masked Who watched this vacuum procedure in awe. "You watch, next he'll be making a ray gun that dissolves your bones from the inside."

* * *

Back in the empty bank with the unconscious Whos and three masked accomplices, the leader had finished his calling card. "And there we are. Babe, I am an official artist."

The blue masked Who nodded, looking up at the giant 'grin', "It sure is...unique, honey." She tried to put her hands on his shoulders, but he slapped them off harshly.

"No touching." He growled at her, making her back off slightly. He then walked up impatiently to the orange masked Who, whom had finished with the call. "Well, what's the news about the jet, buddy boy? Are we gonna be getting out of here anytime soon?"

"He'll be here with the jet at any minute, sir. But we'll have to stand back, it could get messy." The orange masked Who told his Boss, before shoving his phone back into his pocket.

The purple and green masked Who put his hands in his pockets and looked in the direction of the safe hallway. "What is taking those two idiots so long?! We haven't got all day!"

"Coming, Boss!" The two red masked Whos came running out of the hallway that lead into the safe, both holding onto the large vacuuming machine. "We cleared out as much of the safe as we could."

"How much have we got in there?" The purple and green masked Who looked over the vacuuming machine.

The first red masked Who scratched the top of his head, "Hmm, well each large stack was about 20,000 and we sucked up 15 stacks...so that's around 250,000 who-dollars we got in there."

Smirking with pride, the leader walked up in between the two red masked Whos. "Well, boys, you've done well. You'll both get your just rewards for your hard work." Little did either of the two goons know that their boss was secretly smirking and pulling something out of his pockets.

"Jeez, thanks Bo-!"

_Bang! Bang!_

The two red masked Whos fell to the floors on their faces dead, making the blue and orange masked Whos gawk. They each had a large whole in their backs. The purple and green masked Who was holding a smoking gold titanium desert eagle in his gloved hand. "Two more less shares, are you happy now?" He asked that to the blue masked Who, whom nodded fearfully. "Now, all we need is a hostage and-!"

**KA-BLAM!**

Half of the bank's ceiling had been blown clean away, leaving only a large cloud of dust. When it cleared, the masked Whos, whom had ducked to avoid getting hurt in the explosion looked up to see the black jet flying just over the gaping hole.

"Nice entrance! The orange masked Who called up to the jet as a long set of rope ladders lowered down for the bank robbers to make their escape. He unattached the bag from the vacuum machine and tied the end up in a knot. "Okay, help me out with this, will ya?" He asked of his blue masked associate as he began climbing the rope ladders with the bag over his shoulder. The blue masked Who climbed after the orange masked, while pushing up the bag as she did.

Watching his accomplices climb up the rope ladders, the purple and green masked Who took a good look around the piles of unconscious Whos for him to take as a hostage. A groaning noise came from the floor, catching the masked bank robber's attention. He looked down and saw a who groaning and stirring. He was a moustached adult with a thick pair of glasses and he wore a light green vest.He must not have inhaled a greater deal of the black smoke to take him out for long.

"Well, well, look what we have here..."

* * *

Back on the jet, the pilot was looking over the contents of the bag, "My God, there has to be hundreds of thousands of who-dollars in here!"

Vicky Vikally pulled off her bowler hat and blue mask, correcting, "250,000, to be accurate."

The orange masked Who walked up behind the pilot as he took off his bowler hat, "Hey, buddy, is this jet here on auto-pilot?"

"Yeah, it'll take us straight out of this joint and right back to the rendezvoused point."

The Who then took off his orange mask. It was Claude. "Good stuff." He then pulled out a knife and pulled it back over the pilot. Three decent shares sounded more preferable than four...

* * *

Down in the bank, the leader of the entire group was busy tying his hostage's hands behind his back. Once he was done, the final masked Who looked up at the jet and yelled, "Hey, Claude! Give me a hand, here with this!"

"All right I'm coming!" Claude yelled back down as he clambered back down the rope ladders to aid his boss.

A voice spoke up to the leader, "You're insane." He looked down and saw his hostage glaring up at him.

"You mind repeating that?" The purple and green masked Who circled over his hostage dangerously.

Sucking up all his bravery, the moustached hostage frowned and snapped at this criminal, "You're insane to think you'll get away with this. You might think of yourself as the man in charge, but just you wait; they'll start stabbing you in the back! You're just a common crook who thinks he's on top, but in truth, is just down there in a dung heap with the rest of them!"

The purple and green masked Who chuckled sinisterly and kneeled down in front of the hostage, "You may be right on the 'stabbing in the back' part, pal. But you see...any decent Boss would all ready know that. So..." He leaned forward and took off his hat, "...the only way to survive and get away with your spoils..." He grasped the top of his mask, "...is to stab them in the back first." The leader pulled off his mask.

The hostage's eyes grew so wide in fear that his glasses nearly fell off.

Freakshow grinned evilly as he pulled out a long black baton and held it over the hostage's head, "Pleasant dreams!" _Thwack! _Freakshow hit the adult Who hard across the head, sending his world into darkness...

* * *

That night at 9:00 PM...

"A bank robbery? **A BANK ROBBERY?!"** Chairman Victor Vonfrood threw himself back into his throne-like chair. The green Who was in a fit of hysterics at this point as he continued rubbing his aching sinuses.

This particular meeting was being held in the formal council chambers. The large number of attendants sat wearily in the many rows along side the circular chamber. The councilmen sat on throne-like chairs along a separate row at the far end of the chamber in front of a window, while Ned sat in his chair in the very centre of the private room.

"Look, I know things haven't exactly gotten any better than they were three days ago..." Ned said uneasily, strumming his fingers together a bit.

"Actually, they've just gotten worse, worse and worse!" Vonfrood corrected fiercely, leaning forward further on each 'worse'. "For the love of all things sacred, there has not been a bank robbery in Whoville for..." he looked at one of the councilman and asked, "How many years?"

The councilman looked through a set of papers and then answered, "75 years, sir."

"75 years, McDodd!" Vonfrood repeated, laying his arms out on the desk of the councilmen row. "I mean, if that isn't a disaster, then I don't what is!" He then picked up a remote and clicked it upwards to the ceiling. Four television screens facing opposite each other for everyone to see then lowered and switched on. It was relaying the news of the bank robbery that took place earlier that day under the leadership of the villainous mastermind Freakshow.

_"It was terrible!" a female Who that been in the bank at the time of the robbery cried as she was being interviewed. "They all ca-came in, wearing these m-masks and hats. A-and they were all pointing guns at us!"_

_The scene changed to that of the damaged bank building. Police cars and ambulances were parked everywhere possible near the bank, closing off the perimeter of the bank or attending to all the Who's that had been in the incident. Many of them had been traumatised by their experience._

_Another male Who in a blanket that was being interviewed stammered, obviously shooken up by the incident, "T-t-they gassed us w-with this b-bl-black smoke! I-I-I thought he w-was gonna kill us a-a-at the time!"_

_"And who was the mastermind behind this entire ordeal?" The news reporter asked into the camera, which then changed to the inside of the bank, showing Freakshow's 'calling card', "It is none other than the mysterious Freakshow, who as you all can see has proven to us what he truly is: a villainous criminal and terrorist!"_

Ned watched the display on the television screen sorrowfully. This was nothing any good Mayor wanted to see happening in the town or city he headed. When Ned saw everyone looking at him for his response to this, the Mayor took some time with his answer. What could he possibly say regarding something like this? Sighing heavily, Ned stated, while looking up at Vonfrood and the councilmen, "You know something? You're right, Victor."

The councilmen and all the attendants looked surprised by this reply. Was Ned McDodd actually agreeing with Vonfrood on this matter? Now that was something you didn't see everyday in Whoville. All most all of the time in working with each other, these two politicians could never see eye-to-eye on anything.

"So what, you're actually agreeing with me, McDodd?" Victor Vonfrood was actually the most surprised out of anyone in the council chamber.

"All though I am can't believe I'm saying it...yes, I am." Ned sat down in his own chair and slumped his arms on the rests. "I'm not going to deny that we have to use a lot of police attention and resources on capturing him, like you said three days ago. Freakshow has proven himself a greater danger to us than we at first thought. So he has to be tracked down and arrested..." he murmured the next part painfully for him, "...even if he _is _Jojo."

Vonfrood smirked at that last part, "Oh, so you're finally going to come to terms of your son's new choice of lifestyle, are you?" If it was one thing the Chairman enjoyed, it was seeing the scatter-brained Mayor admitting that he was wrong in front of everyone.

"That I'll still have to personally decide for myself, Vonfrood. But..." Ned stood up from his chair and looked at everyone in the chamber, "...if this Freakshow is going to try and loot and terrorize our home, then I will do whatever it takes to stop him! Because you know what? We in Whoville have had years and years of peace and harmony, which has unfortunately made us let our guard down for some of the inevitable dangers out there."

The crowd of attendants let out a quiet chorus of mixed views and opinions on that part, all though did have to agree.

The Mayor of Whoville continued, "You all remember the big clover incident, right? With all of us, we made ourselves heard to Nool and saved our home. That tested our strength to prevail and everyone, prevail we did!"

All of the attendants and a few of the council members actually began to cheer and applaud a bit.

Feeling his courage in front of the crowd bolster, Ned then spoke boldly and clearly to them all, standing tall, "I know Freakshow has guns, explosives and all sorts of devices that he can use to torment us, but we cannot let one homicidal lunatic rule over us by letting him feed off our fear. If we can show this Freakshow that we are people who don't back down from some thugs with guns, then we're taking away that one thing he is using to keep us under his grip." The crowd then began loudly applauding the Mayor for his strong words as he then continued, "So that's why we must stand strong against madmen like this Freakshow and stand up for our peaceful world! You with me everyone?"

And with that speech from the Mayor, every council attendant roared in applause. Most of the councilmen smiled and gave their own quiet applause, while Chairman Vonfrood dryly and unenthusiastically clapped, while turning his head slightly.

_"Congratulations, you'll make a great motivational speaker." _He muttered bitterly to himself so no one would hear.

But regarding the other councilmen and attendants, the Mayor's speech seemed to have gotten through to them. This would have been classified as one of the Mayor's shining moments if only one soon-to-be terrifying thing hadn't happened that moment...

_Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!_

A quiet screeching noise made its way into the ears of the Whos in the council chambers, soon catching everyone's attention. But when it started to grow louder and louder to the point of it being high-pitched, the Whos in the chamber fell dead-silent as they listened.

_SSSCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!_

A lot of the Whos in the chamber clasped their ears in pain as the high-pitched drone rang painfully in their heads.

"What is that noise?" Vonfrood exclaimed as he covered his ears on hearing the high-pitched noise. He looked up at the televisions above him and saw that the screens had become completely covered in wild static. The source of the noise was coming from them. Picking up his remote, the Chairman began clicking up at them to switch them off, but to no prevail. They just kept showing static on the screens. "What the devil is wrong with this remote?" Vonfrood looked at the remote in his hand and kept pressing the 'turn off' button.

"Maybe the batteries are dead." One of the council attendants suggested from the third row.

"Try pointing above the screens." Another called out from the fifth row.

Ned turned to Mrs. Yelp, his mayoral assistant who had been sitting at the end of the first row. "Mrs. Yelp, can you call technical support? We're having a lot of trouble with the televisions." Mrs. Yelp nodded and began talking to someone over her phone earpiece. The Mayor then looked at the councilmen, asking loudly while plugging up his ears, "Jeez, how old are these rust buckets?!"

"For you're information, they're some of the top of the line televisions available!" Chairman Vonfrood yelled loudly over the high-pitched drone, still covering his ears.

"What?!" Ned had not been able to hear him the noise was that loud.

"I said 'they're top of the line!'"

"WHAT?!"

"I SAID 'THEY'RE TOP OF THE LINE!'"

**"WHAT?!"**

Gritting his teeth furiously, Chairman Vonfrood yelled as loud as he could over the high-pitched noise, **"I SAID 'THEY'RE TOP-OF-THE-LINE, YOU OAFISH BOOB!!" **Unfortunately for Vonfrood, the high-pitched drone died down right in the middle of that sentence, which meant he had shown himself up right in front of the entire council meeting.

Ned unplugged his ears and heard no high-pitched drone ringing throughout the council chamber anymore. "That's better, but yeesh, no need to yell, Victor." He said that last part to the Chairman, who now looked as if he was going to irrupt like an active volcano and probably would have if he had not noticed something on the screens.

"I...wait, what's that?" Vonfrood pointed up at the television screens, followed in suit by many of the councilmen and the attendants. Ned looked up as well at what everyone was starring at. The static that was taking up the screen had been replaced by a complete vivid red.

"Okay, now something definitely screwy is going on here." Ned said, mesmerized by the bright screen.

A long vivid purple line appeared on the red screen, forming a big grin. Next, above the purple 'grin', a large vivid green circle with a left flick appeared on top to make it look wicked. Finally, next to the large green 'wicked eye' was a smaller circle of vivid yellow made to look like a normal eye.

The colour in everyone's face drained away and their jaws dropped slightly. They knew what this was.

"Oh, dear..." Ned whispered.

Mrs. Yelp, who had finished with her call to technical support, spoke to the Mayor, "Well, Mr. Mayor, technical support can't seem to figure out the cause of that noise, but they say that is image has just..." She stopped halfway when she looked up and saw the 'grin' on the television screen. "...oh, you all ready know."

"Uh-huh." Ned said, but clearly transfixed on the screen.

"Well, anyway, I thought I'd just let you know that they told me that this..._thing _has taken over every broadcast in town."

"Oh, sure, th-that's grea-" Ned snapped out of his mesmerisation of the 'grin' on the red screen and looked at Mrs. Yelp, "Wait, wait, did you just say-?"

"Yes."

Ned then pointed out the window behind the councilmen, continuing, "And that means that...?"

Mrs. Yelp finished dryly for him, "This image is on every single television screen in Whoville. Yes." She then pointed at the window as well, "Heck, you can go check for yourself if you don't believe me."

Wasting no time, Ned dashed up the stairs that led to the councilmen's row. "Sorry, coming through." He said quickly as he moved past Vonfrood and another of the councilmen. Ned then looked outside the window to the large plasma screen television not far away on the tall office building in the middle of town. The same 'wicked grin' had taken over the screen. He rubbed his hand down his face, "This doesn't look too good."

It did not get any better when Ned heard a low evil chuckling coming from behind him. He looked back at the councilmen, who all just pointed up at the television screens in front of them. Running down the steps to get a closer look at the screens, which the chuckling was coming from, Ned saw that the pixels making up the 'grin' and the vivid red screen were dissolving away. A live image appeared on screen.

On the television screen was a light grey damp stone room with a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling. In the middle of the almost empty room was a black leather revolving chair, where the sinister chuckling was originating from. The person in the chair must have been too small for his or her head to be seen from the back.

_"Good evening, Whoville." a distinct teenage male voice spoke from behind the chair._

Ned was the first to recognize this voice and it made his blood run cold. He muttered to himself so only he could hear it, _"Oh no, oh no, oh no..."_

_The voice behind the chair continued, "As you guessed by the image before this, yes, this is Freakshow here." _Many of the attendants whimpered in fear at that name. _"Now, let's get down to business. First, yes, I and my associates did rob the 1st National Bank of Whoville. And to tell you the truth, it was done a lot easier than I had expected. We were in and out of there in what, 15 minutes."_

_The off-screen Who operating the camera corrected, "Actually, it was 11 minutes, sir."_

_"Really, Claude, only that long? Oh well, doesn't matter." The voice behind the chair said as he then moved on. "Now getting to the point; all you politicians and media people have been trying to unravel two important things. Number one: who IS this Freakshow? Number two, mainly for the media: what is the new face of the insane Jojo McDodd? Two hard questions, indeed."_

Of course, the Whos in the council chambers were not the only ones watching this broadcast. All other Whoville, the citizens were fearfully watching the hidden Freakshow address them. Sally and the McDodd children watched in their family living room, while Horton and co. watched it on their portable television in their penthouse. Dr. Larue sat in the Who U staff office with many of her co-staff, watching everything on the old television installed in the top left-hand ceiling. Many of the other citizens in Whoville watched the massive plasma screen television on the tall office building in the middle of town and the rest watched from the comfort of their homes. All of them felt their blood pressure rise and sweat form on their brows as the psychopath rambled on and on.

_"So let us answer both those questions right now." The chair slowly turned around 180 degrees so that the Who's front could be seen, all though his head was lowered. He was wearing a black long sleeve shirt with red stripes, black trousers, a tie that was designed to look like a green venomous snake and a pair of thick leather gloves. Over this he wore a red vest and above that a long rough charcoal blazer with a blood red lining on the inside. The figure raised his head, so the light shone down upon it to reveal his face clearly._

Chairman Vonfrood and the councilmen cringed, repulsed and horrified, while the attendants gasped in horror. 95 out of the 96 McDodd daughters screamed in fear as they huddled around their mother and Harley, who just stood there in shock. With Horton and co, Kangaroo looked at her son and said sharply, "Well, Rudy, I guess this is a case of: I told you so, I told you so!" Dr. Larue shook her head slowly in dismay as she took off her thick safety goggles, watching her former patient reveal his criminal life before the whole town. All the other Whos, be they in the middle of town or in their homes, just screamed in terror at the Who on the television with the mutilated face. And Ned, all he could do was just stand there, with a look of great loss on his paled face.

_Freakshow check his watch and then faced the camera again, "Okay, I think that would have been enough time for all you out there to scream." He put his hands together and smirked, "For all of you out there that thought, 'Hey, what if Jojo McDodd and Freakshow are one in the same?' then congratulations. You are correct."_

Ned felt something hit him on the side of the head, which he then grabbed in his hand. It was a paper airplane that when he unfolded it, had the words 'I told you so! I told you so!' written on it. Looking behind him, the Mayor saw that a ticked off Chairman Vonfrood had thrown it. Ned mumbled angrily under his breath, while crumbling up the paper airplane.

_"So yes, I did murder Devon Yexley." Freakshow looked at his wrist with a hint of pride in his voice. "But don't think badly of me for that. Devon, as you have all seen, was a criminal and near enough a terrorist. And with him dead, I have taken over his organisation and all its assets." He frowned sternly at the camera, "But..." He then chuckled a bit, "...do not think that means I am going to make things any easier for all of you."_

_Freakshow hopped out of his chair and began to walk off, while gesturing the camera man to follow, "Claude..." _

_"Yes, sir." Claude's voice said from behind the camera as he moved the camera in tow with Freakshow. _

_"Let's take this guy for a live example." Freakshow walked over to a Who that was tied up to a chair by chains. He was a moustached adult with a thick pair of glasses and he wore a light green vest. This was the same hostage Freakshow had kidnapped earlier that day. He looked tired and ravaged after his experience. The psycho grabbed the poor Who by the top of the head and positioned his face right in front of the camera. He cleared his throat and told his hostage, "Now, tell everyone your name."_

_The poor Who answered exhaustedly, "Harold Bartleby."_

_After he chuckled in a devious manner, Freakshow_ _asked him, "Are you afraid, Harold?" _

_Harold breathed in deeply before answering, "Yes...yes, I am."_

_"I thought so." Freakshow then pulled out something that made Harold quiver in fear. It was the gold titanium covered desert eagle. "This is my desert eagle, Harold, one of my most favourite guns, I can assure you! It can do some serious damage, that's a guarantee."_

_The Who glared at the lunatic angrily, "You think that will intimidate me, you maniac?! You're just some punk kid with a gun and nothing else!"_

_Freakshow laughed at first, "You're a real joker, ya know that, Harold? Heh, heh... " he then furiously pulled Harold down to his height by the collar and thwacked him hard across the head with the gun's hilt. "Ha, ha, ha! Now who's laughing, jerk?!"_

_"Good hit, Boss." Claude complimented from behind the camera._

_"You don't get to talk!" Freakshow snapped at his employee, before turning back to Harold, "So you think I'm not dangerous, Bartleby?" When the freak saw his hostage looking away from him, he said firmly, "Look at me." His captive, however, tried to resist the madman's order. "__**LOOK AT ME!**__" he screamed furiously._

_When he saw that his captive was not cooperating, Freakshow turned away from Harold in disgust and looked into the camera at all those watching, "Now listen, citizens of Whoville. If you thought Devon Yexley was a thorn in your side, then wait until you get a load of me!" Freakshow warned all the viewers, "Homicides, bank robberies, to me those are just fun and games. I am going to run this city into the ground with some of the most diabolical methods you could imagine. And it all starts tonight."_

_Freakshow then walked over to another side of the room with Claude and the camera in tow. "If you want it all to stop..." On the wall he was standing next to, there were photos of Ned McDodd, Chairman Victor Vonfrood and all the other members of the council. "...then my father, Mayor McDodd and the entire town council have to hand over total control of the city over to me." He then laughed evilly, "They will have to do it before year's end, because by then, this town will have been torn down to nothing. Believe me, Whos, be they guilty or innocent, will be killed. And that...ha, ha...that is not a threat..." He looked right into the camera and grinned toothily, "...that is a __**promise! Huahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha...!!"**_

_With that, Freakshow held up his gun and dashed back in the direction of Harold Bartleby, while gesturing Claude to put down the camera. The goon obliged as he lowered the camera and covered it up. All that was left on screen was static, while gunshots, screams and malevolent laughter took over the sound. _

_The live transmission ended._

* * *

**(A/N) And I will end it there! Okay, now after checking, THIS is my longest chapter ever. I hope you enjoyed that chapter, everyone, I know I enjoyed writing it. Now that he has made his threat to Whoville clear, the madness of Freakshow has only begun. Until next time, Read and Review!**


	7. Chapter Six: The shroud of madness grows

**(A/N) All right, everyone, I am back with chapter six. Now, this chapter is where Freakshow's powers and assets grow further as he torments the citizens of Whoville. We meet up with some old faces and one specific character changes in more ways than one. Read on and see for yourselves.**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

**The shroud of madness grows**

The next morning at 10:20 AM in Whoville, one Who was not having a great day at all...

Jerome Eckhart sat on the waiting bench in the busy police station, tapping his index fingers together nervously while he looked down at the floor. His white and black chequered fedora was tipped over his pale and clammy face.The teenage Who hadn't received that much of a good November this year. His best friend had been horribly disfigured and was now on the rampage as a mad criminal and to Jerome, it was all his fault. If he had not tried to take that soda off of his friend a few weeks ago, then it would not have fallen onto the lower catwalk. The lower catwalk which Jojo had supposedly fallen off of and became deformed by the chemicals he landed in. This was what Jerome believed, that is. He and no one else knew actually how Jojo fell into the bubbling blue chemical vat...

When he saw the broadcast on the television last night, Jerome all most had himself a heart attack, especially at the part where his friend said that Whos, be they innocent or guilty were going to be killed. He and his fraternal twin sister Zoe knew that Freakshow was especially talking about him and possibly her. The psycho had obviously taken into account the fiasco with the soda can that lead to his transformation in the vat, so he would definitely be on the hit list. But why would he want to kill Zoe? It was most likely because she was the one who stopped Jojo from avoiding going on that dratted field trip to _Who Chem. Inc_. If she had not pointed out the signed permission slip in his pocket, Jojo would have stayed at school for the day and the whole incident would never have happened.

The two fraternal twins could even have been the first two on the madman's list of homicides, so this was why Jerome had come to the police station. He came to get some help from the proper authorities...

"Jerome Eckhart." A thick New York accent addressed Jerome. The teenage Who lifted his hat slightly to see Lt. Knox standing tall above him, smoking his thick cigar. "I believe it's time for your police appointment your parents arranged."

Shrugging on his creased blue coat, Jerome stood up and nodded glumly, "Yes, Lieutenant Knox."

Walking away in another direction, Lt. Knox grumbled, "All right, kid. Just follow me." Jerome did as he was instructed and followed Lt. Knox far off down the busy police station. When they reached the far end of the station, Knox turned the handle of a rustic metal door and opened it. He then motioned Jerome to enter before him.

* * *

The room Lt. Knox and Jerome had entered was a stone grey mould-covered interviewing room. A flickering light was attached to the ceiling and there was a small square black bar crossed window on one side of the walls. In the middle of the interviewing room there was a rickety grey table with two chairs facing opposite each other.

"Sheesh, you seriously interview Whos in this rat hole, Knox?" Jerome looked around the mould-covered interviewing room with disgust as he covered his nose. He then sat down in one of the chairs and placed his hands on the table.

"Well, it was either this place or the janitor's closet, Eckhart." Lt. Knox grumbled in annoyance as he sat his heavy form on the chair facing opposite Jerome. "Now, be blunt with me, Eckhart, what is this appointment all about? It's not every day a teenage Who comes into this station for a private appointment without their parents."

Jerome sighed heavily and explained to Knox, "Well, you see, Lt. Knox, my family is in great need of police protection."

Lt. Knox took out his cigar and tapped the hot ashes onto the table, before shoving it back into his lips as he puffed, "Okay...from whom exactly do you need protection from?"

"Jojo McDodd." was the teenage Who's tired answer.

The lieutenant's eyes widened as he asked, "What, you mean Freakshow? What's that psycho got against the likes of you?"

"Oh, come on, Knox, didn't you read the newspapers earlier this month?!" Jerome grabbed his chequered fedora and slammed it onto the table. "He has it out for me and my sister! He blames us for unintentionally being part of the reason he fell into that vat of chemicals!"

Lt. Knox then snickered as the smoke vented out of his noise, "Oh, yes, now I remember. That little tiff with the soda can that made McDodd slip. Well, I guess I can understand why he wants you, but what's your sister got to do with it?"

"Zoe prevented Jojo from avoiding going on the field trip in which the incident occurred." the teenage Who told the seedy police lieutenant firmly. "What happened was that she pointed out the permission slip Jojo was stashing away in his pocket, which caught him out before he got away with it."

"Ah, I know what ya mean; the fieldtrip ditch Gamma." He rolled his eyes and grinned, reminiscing his earlier years as a young Who. "I remember that old trick back when I was a little punk."

Jerome cleared his throat and continued, trying to get back to the topic at hand, "Yes, good to hear that. But the point is Jojo said on the broadcast that from last night, _'Whos, be they guilty or innocent, will be killed'." _He then gestured to himself, saying with a worried look, "And I am most sure that that includes me and my sister."

Lt. Knox stood up from his chair and began in front of it left to right. He then extinguished the cigar by shoving it onto his thick sleeve and flicked it away. "I can understand your...predicament, Mr. Eckhart, but why didn't your family come to this appointment to request this protection themselves?"

Looking down at his hands sadly, Jerome said, "They literally _couldn't _come."

"And _why _is that? Come on, kid, I'd like a straight answer!" Knox was becoming really irritated on how vague this kid was being.

Jerome gritted his teeth angrily and yelled as he stood up from his chair, "Okay, you wanna know why they couldn't come?! It's because my mother one of those people in the bank yesterday when it got robbed!" He slumped back down into his chair and grasped onto his bright blue hair, saying while trying his best to be calm, "When the bank was robbed, my mother was there making a withdrawal. After she had been knocked out by that gas, her leg had been crushed under a large piece of rubble of stone that had been made by that explosion in the ceiling." He rubbed his eyelids, obviously pained by the fresh memory, "She's been in the hospital since and my father and Zoe have been at her side all night. Her situation is improving, but my father insisted I went here to ask for police protection when he leaned of what Jojo might do to us."

"Oi...hard break." Lt. Knox commented, while not really caring about the terrible situation Jerome's family was in.

"So what do you say, Knox?" Jerome now looked at Lt. Knox in desperation. The poor Who had no one else to turn to. "Can you give my family some police protection?"

Lt. Knox scratched his furry throat and pondered this, "Hmmm, I could, Eckhart, but then again I would have to get permission from Commissioner Martyn. That itself might be difficult, considering the _circumstances." _when he said 'circumstances' the dark way he did, Jerome knew exactly what he was referring to.

"I know, I know, the whole problem with Freakshow terrorizing the city." Jerome looked away slightly as he crossed his arms.

Lt. Knox then shrugged as he began searching for something inside his overcoat, "You got that right, Eckhart, it's hard to help individual people when we have a problem like this on our hands. A _lot _of police attention and resources are being used to track down this freak." He then found what he was looking for and placed it on the table, next to Jerome's fedora. "I don't suppose _you _have read _today's _newspaper." It was indeed a copy of the _Whoville Gazette._

Jerome looked over the front page of the newspaper, but then recoiled when he saw the front page. It was a picture of Freakshow's former hostage Harold Bartleby, tied up onto a lamp post by thick metal chains. He had several large holes in his chest resulting from gun shots and his pale face meant he was clearly dead. Beneath his feet, a white square piece of cardboard with Freakshow's 'calling card' painted on front had been attached. In a rectangular panel next to this horrid photographic image was the image of Freakshow's face up close into the camera, looking menacing and sadistic. It was titled in bold yellow: _Deformed Jojo McDodd is villainous 'Freakshow'! Two deaths all ready!_

"It's mortifying." Jerome stated plainly, his eyes fixed on the horrifying images on the front page.

Lt. Knox sat back down in the chair and folded his heavy leg over the other. "Well, I can't disagree with ya there, Eckhart." He picked up the newspaper and took another look at it himself. "So, even if we _can _get your family police protection from this freak, I doubt what good it'll even do. After what the psycho did to Bartleby, we have no idea what he's capable of..." He shoved the newspaper back into his overcoat and finished, while scratching the side of his head, "But, eh...we'll see what we can do for ya. We might be able to get a few cops when available, but we can't make any promises."

Jerome smiled a bit. That would probably be the best he was going to get right now out of this appointment. "All right, then." He stood up from his chair simultaneously with Lt. Knox and shook his hand reluctantly, "Thanks for your time, Lt. Knox. Much appreciated."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, no problem." Lt. Knox rolled his eyes unenthusiastically as pulled out a brown leather covered metal flask and took a drink. It was filled with ice cold beer, which was actually against police regulations since he was on duty. Not like he cared.

Jerome then picked up his fedora, headed to the rustic metal door and pushed it open. He looked back at Lt. Knox one more time, saying before he exited, "Wish you the best of luck with catching this lunatic, Knox, because you and the cops are gonna need it." With that, Jerome closed the door behind him and walked off.

* * *

Walking down the small and busy corridor of the police station, Jerome put his fedora back on his head and shoved his hands into his pockets. That would be the best he would be getting out of the police for now to help his family's situation.

When Jerome approached the entrance of the police station, it swooshed open to reveal his sister Zoe Eckhart waiting there for him on the steps. She looked a lot more glum and downcast than her usual cheerful and bubbly self. He kneeled down and tapped her on the shoulder, catching her attention, "Okay, Zoe, the appointment's over. Let's go back to the hospital."

Zoe looked over her shoulder misty-eyed at her brother and then nodded. She stood up on her feet and walked down the steps of that led down to the pavement with Jerome. The older brother noticed how upset she looked and sighed quietly to himself. He had never seen Zoe look so upset before, but decided it was best not to say anything. Even when Zoe was the slightest bit upset, it was best to leave her be until her mood lightened again.

Right now, Jerome and Zoe had better make their way back to Whoville hospital to meet up with their father, so they could all then check up on the recovering Mrs. Eckhart. All Jerome could do now was hope that Lt. Knox would get around to convincing Commissioner Martyn to assign police protection for his family. If Freakshow would keep to his promise then many Whos were going to be found dead every day and if they were not careful, he and Zoe would be among them...

* * *

_Click! _A _Ferguson _television was switched on to the news channel, which showeda female news reporter and several others in front of town hall.

_"And we are now in front of town hall, where we will ask a few questions to the mayor and councilmen, regarding the villainous Freakshow." The female news reporter said into the camera, while holding her microphone. When the doors of town hall opened, she and the other news reporters turned their heads and saw to the Mayor and councilmen who were walking outside. _

_The news reporters ran as fast as they could to the politicians, trying their best to get a quick interview with them. The first female news reporter pushed and shoved her way through the swarm of reporters, finally making her way up to Chairman Vonfrood, "Mr. Chairman, what actions will be taken in the capture of this Freakshow?"_

_Annoyed, Vonfrood answered as continued making his way through the flood of news reporters, "To put it simply, our police will track down his location, arrest him and he WILL be brought to justice! Now if you'll excuse me..." He and most of the councilmen finally got out of crowd of news reporters and walked over to the black limousine waiting for them parked next the curb._

_A male news reporter finally reached the Mayor, Ned McDodd and asked him, "Mr. Mayor, will the methods of capture and crime penalties of Freakshow be in any way altered by the fact that he is your son, Jojo?"_

_Ned looked tired and worn-down. Last night had not been good for him. He answered, while simply waving his hand, "Uh, I have no comment at this time." He then slipped through the crowd with the remaining councilmen to the black limousine, where Vonfrood and the others were waiting impatiently for them._

_The female news reporter looked back at her camera and said, "That will be all answers from our politicians until further notice. Next, we turn you to Mark Lester who will be interviewing the family of Freakshow's deceased hostage Harold Bar-"_

_Bang! _The television screen exploded from a direct gunshot.

Freakshow blow off the smoke at the firing end of his desert eagle held tight in his fist. He was sitting down on a black leather revolving chair in his private room within the bunker under 29 Zoombazi Avenue. He dropped the gun onto a table, picked up a porcelain cup of hot tea and chugged it down, muttering that could be recognized as, _"Lousy media." _He then saw something else on the table; copies of all the different newspapers in Whoville.

"Hmmm..." Freakshow picked up the large stack and began looking through them all, saying the headlines out loud as he did, _"Freakshow kills again; Deformed Jojo McDodd is villainous 'Freakshow'! Two deaths all ready, Mayor's son a homicidal maniac, Freakshow revealed." _He put them together and began tearing them all to pieces as he yelled, "Bitches, gits and stupid..._stupid _jerks!!"

One of Freakshow's goons, whom was standing next to the room's door as bodyguard, looked at the destroyed television and complained, "Um, sir, I was planning to watch a game show on that television in a few hours."

Freakshow looked at the thug tiredly, then picked up his desert eagle again and pointed it at the thug. _Bang! _The thug fell down dead straight away from the direct shot in his chest. He stood up while pocketing his desert eagle and walked to the door. He remarked to the dead body of his employee before he walked out, "I hate game shows." The madman had something important that he had to check up on.

* * *

Sally sat in her chair at the far end of the long elaborate table in the dining room. She was eating her third Danish and drinking her fourth cup of coffee that morning, anything to keep her mind off the news. She hadn't slept well last night, no one in the McDodd house had. The girls had eaten their breakfasts in silence and were now off to play in the park, leaving their mother to herself.

"God, I'm gonna get fat." Sally mumbled to herself as she carelessly shoved the pastry into her mouth and licked her fingers. She all ways ate and drank a lot when she felt upset. Next, she took the large cup of coffee and practically tossed it down her throat.

"You will be if you're gonna keep binging like that." Someone said in another direction, catching Sally off guard.

Sally nearly chocked up on her coffee and looked in another direction, while still coughing, "Who asked you?" She snapped, before she noticed whom was standing there in the doorway. "Oh, oh, Harley, I didn't see you there."

Harley McDodd walked into the kitchen, taking off her drenched raincoat and rain boots and putting them on the hook and rack. She stretched her tired arms and walked over to one of the 98 remaining seats, the on facing opposite her mother. "Hi, Mom." Harley then slumped her head on the table and put her hand next to her face.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" Sally asked her daughter, concerned as she patted her head.

"Oh, nothing. Just the fear of being killed by my brother when I step foot outside."

Sally huffed annoyed at Harley's mood, "Oh, for goodness sake, Harley, don't be such a baby."

Harley pulled her head off the table and wrapped her arms around her legs, the latter which she brought up from the floor. She mumbled angrily, rubbing her face on her arm, "I don't care. Maybe I _wanna _be a baby."

"Okay, now you're just being ridiculous." Sally stood up from her chair and walked around the table to the kettle on the side. She began making herself another cup of coffee, making it her fifth that morning. "How about you just take a nap and calm down."

"I don't wanna." The teenage Who looked back at her mother and commented, "And another thing, mom, if you have any more of that junk, then _you_ sure won't be able to sleep tonight."

"Oh and how do you figure, little lady?" Sally poured her steaming coffee into her cup and walked back to her seat.

"Well, I dunno, maybe it's just because of all the caffeine inside it. Frankly, I'm surprised it hasn't had any affect on you."

Sally shook her head, laughing slightly, "Sweetheart, don't be silly. Heh, heh." She then looked down on the table and saw her hand was jittering on the table. When she saw Harley looking at her with a dry 'I told you so' look, she removed her hand and put it underneath the table, "Oh, that's nothing. It's just a...a nervous twitch." Sally gulped down more of her coffee and sighed with pleasure, "Aww, yeah, that's better."

Shaking her head tiredly, Harley looked across the table and found a torn off section of the newspaper. She held the paper up and turned it around the right way. It was a large photo of Freakshow grinning wickedly into the camera. It seemed to be stained with water droplets or more likely...by tears. "What are you doing with this, mother?"

Her mother saw the paper and snatched it off Harley, saying quickly, "Oh, my-! N-nothing, honey. It's just a...a..."

"I understand." Harley put her hands back on the table. "After all, what kind of mother would you be if you _didn't _cry over your now insane child?" She got up from her chair and walked to the fridge so she could get a drink for herself. She picked out a tall carton of chocolate milk and began pouring herself a glass, commenting, "Me, I don't really have any sympathy for the criminally insane." She huffed to herself quietly, "...that freak."

Sally, however, had heard what she had said clearly and snapped angrily, "Hey! Don't you dare talk about your own brother that way, young lady!" She took a second look at the picture in her hand, "He's...he's not well, is all."

"Oh, and that makes double homicide and a bank robbery perfectly all right, does it?" Harley put her glass to her lips and chugged down her chocolate milk.

"No, it doesn't. But I'm not trying to say otherwise."

Harley snorted in a pig-like manner and poured herself another glass of chocolate milk. "Then what are you saying, oh so wise First Lady of Whoville?"

"I'm saying he needs help, not imprisonment! For God's sake Harley, his mind's been twisted up like a computer that's been screwed up by a virus!" Sally stood up, while biting into another danish. Harley was being so inconsiderate to her own brother and it was obvious to her why. "He's dangerous to himself, not _just _other people."

"That's not my problem." Harley snapped coldly, putting the carton of chocolate milk back and slamming the fridge door.

Sally just stomped her foot onto the kitchen floor at the brink of her patience with Harley. "Oh, that's right, of course it's not _your _problem! It's only _your _problem when it affects your big social life." He threw arms into the air and stated, clearly sarcastic, "But hey, what does matter if one of your family members is in trouble. As long as you're not affected, it's all a big trip to the beach for you."

Harley was insulted by this. Her mother had no right to judge how she felt on this. Gulping down so more of her chocolate milk, Harley just scoffed and walked around the table past her mother to the doorway with her glass, "You know what? I don't have to listen to your filth! I'm going to my room!"

But Sally was not prepared to let Harley leave just yet. There was something she really wanted to say right now that made her fur stand on end. It was something not really appropriate or mature to say, but she had just become so angered by Harley's ridiculously nasty behaviour, "Okay, fine! Fine! Go to your room and block everything out! But you know what, the-the only reason you don't give a damn about this is...is because...because..."

"Because what, mom?!" Harley snapped at the brink of her patience, while she was halfway through the doorway.

Sally clenched her fists and breathed in slowly. What she said next was because she'd past the tipping point of her temper. She yelled loudly, but rather quickly, _"...because now you're the one who gets to be Mayor!! There, I said it!"_

Harley gasped loudly while Sally just froze in place, completely ashamed of what she had just said. The glass in Harley's hand slipped out of her grip and smashed onto floor, scattering the chocolate milk and glass. That comment really crossed the line. Everyone knew Harley had all ways been jealous of Jojo being first in line to be Mayor, but they knew better than to bring it up. Now Jojo had become a homicidal terrorist, it would be very unlikely for him to become Mayor in the future, making Harley first in line for the position, hence Sally's choice of words. Now for someone, especially your own mother to accuse you of selfishly taking advantage of a terrible situation was more than enough to put you down.

Sally tried to say something to her obviously hurt child, "Oh...sweetie, I'm so sorry I-"

"No, just forget it!" Harley cut her mother off furiously. She didn't look back at her, not because she was angry, but actually because she was on the verge of tears. Harley all ways used anger to cover up most of her true feelings.

"But I-"

"Just leave me alone!" Harley ran off out the doorway. She then dashed across the hallway and made her way up the staircase. The girl didn't need any criticism of her character right now. If that was really how her mother felt, then so be it. She didn't care.

Sally ran after her daughter and only managed to see her feet running up the stairs, before she disappeared upstairs. "Oh, Harley, come on..."

_"GO TO HELL!" _was Harley's yell in response from upstairs. A loud slamming noise was the last thing Sally heard from her daughter for the rest of that day.

Sally just stood there for a few minutes, rubbing her head. She should have never said, even if it was true. Harley had for quite a while been thought of as a bitter, selfish and jealous Who, which was correct. Still, the girl didn't need to be told that, especially by one of her own parents.

The female Who slowly walked back across the hallway and back into the kitchen. Noticing the glass a puddle of chocolate milk on the floor, she sighed, "I better clean that up." She went to fridge and pulled a duster and pan from on top. Next, she made her way back to the mess on the floor, not before picking up the picture of Freakshow again. She set it next to the mess as got down on her knees and began sweeping the glass into the pan. Shortly, halfway through the process, Sally looked left at Freakshow's picture.

The brush and pan dropped from her hands and for the second time that morning, Sally cried.

* * *

"Good, the process is nearly complete. You are doing well."

The laboratory was located at the very end of the bunker. It was not well-furnished, the floor had broken beakers and tools scattered across it and the khaki wall's were even stained and cracked. The machines and trays of mechanisms were crammed any that was possible in the room. The deceased Devon had not taken much effort in keeping these laboratories clean and tidy, Freakshow only did in the slightest. This was one of the numerous laboratories where weapons were built and some deranged experiments were held.

Only two Whos were present inside the lab right now. The first was a male in his early thirties wearing a scuffed grey lab coat, green rubber gloves and a pair of metal goggles with black lenses. He was the one as you might have guessed, performing the experiment. An extreme psychological one at that.

The second Who in the room was the one that was being experimented on. She was strapped by thick leather belts to a metal table that was leaned upwards. In front of her was a huge wide-screen television that descended from the ceiling. The images that were being displayed on the screen in front of this Who were...not something any Who would take pleasure in viewing.

Picking up a pen and clipboard from a desk that had an old computer on top, the scientist began jotting down on the piece of paperwork attached to it. He said, while still focusing on the clipboard, "All right, then. As soon as our boss arrives, we will be ready to unstrap you from that table. Now let's just..." But the scientist's sentence was cut off right in the middle when...

_Slam!_

The large door of the lab was thrusted forward, leaving a cracking mark in the wall it slammed into. This scared the Hell out of the scientist, whom dropped the clipboard and pen in surprise. He then said formally to the Who at the door, "Oh, speak of the devil, sir, I was just talking about you."

Freakshow walked inside the laboratory and slammed the door behind him as hard as he opened it. The deformed Who was carrying a black suitcase in his hand. He then strolled over to the female Who that was strapped to the metal table and had several wires attached to her head. She also had headphones put on her ears and her eyelids had been pulled back by tape. This was so that she could hear and see what the television was screening before her clearly. Above her eyes descending from the ceiling was a small black device that released water droplets to hydrate her eyes. She looked completely mesmerized by the screen as if it was a coin being swung before her left and right like a pendulum.

The psycho grinned at the girl's hypnotic state and then set the black suitcase next to metal table. He looked back at the scientist, "What is her progress, Caine?"

The scientist, Marvin Caine was picking up the pen and clipboard from the floor when Freakshow asked him that question. He told his boss as he finished jotting down on the paperwork, "She is all most finished, sir. This has been her eighth three-hour session, but I must plead of you for it to be her last. After all, her mind has been torn and twisted beyond even _my _ethical standards. And I'm a former psychiatrist from Who U."

"I suppose it should be. The mind can only take so much rewiring before the person becomes unuseful." Freakshow mused as he gently and delicately ran the back of his fingers through the girl's green hair. "I can assure you, Caine, after all this, she will be a greater asset to us than she was before."

Caine sat down his wheeled chair and moved it over in front of a large black monitor. He pointed to one of them in particular which showed a number of waves. "Now this shows her brainwaves by the wires attached to her head." He stated to Freakshow, who looked at them from where he was standing. "As you can see, the amplitudes and wavelengths are quite unstable and frantic. I am actually quite surprised you even took her on that bank job you pulled yesterday. She wasn't exactly in the best state of mind to do so."

"Actually, she acted quite like her normal self back at the bank." shrugged Freakshow as he stroked down on his tie, "Why else do you think I told you to increase her...heh, heh...'medication'?"

"Perhaps. Do you wish me to..." Caine gestured to a large red button on a small panel below the monitors. It was the button that shut down the television screens the girl was mesmerized by.

"Oh, yes, proceed." As Freakshow told his associate this, he took a quick peak at the screen the girl was being entranced by. He quickly regretted it and backed off. To think having to stare at ghastly images like the ones this girl was for hours on end. Not pleasant, not pleasant at all.

Caine hesitated but slowly pressed down on the red button. A low humming noise could be heard as the white light that was given off by the television died down. Pulling his lapels forward a bit, Freakshow pushed the television up so he could see the girl's face. He pulled out a long serrated knife out his blazer pocket and sliced the ends of the leather belts. Next, he delicately took off the tape pulling up her eyelids and pushed away the device that released the small drops of water that hydrated her eyes. The psycho licked his hand and ran it over his hair, saying smoothly to the girl, "Good morning, Vicky."

Vicky Vikally blinked her eyelids a few times, then slowly looked up at Freakshow. Her face looked so pale white that it would seem she spent her whole life indoors in darkness. Her green pigtails had been untied into a complete mess with the colour greatly drained. Darks rings had formed under her eyes, the latter of which had lost a lot of colour, making them look all most grey. Also, the girl's mouth was fixed to a creepy, unnatural grin as she giggled continuously under her breath. Poor Vicky looked as if she just spent three years inside an asylum, while strapped down in a straightjacket.

"F-f-freaky, baby?" She giggled with her left shoulder twitching. Vicky looked absolutely immense with joy just seeing the deformed Who, all most in an unnatural way.

"How're ya doing?" Freakshow rested his hand just over her head on the table to the right.

Vicky pulled on her oversized collar and giggled again, looking dreamily at Freakshow, "I feel _so _much better, Freaky. I mean, yesterday I felt so depressed, I could have put a bullet through my head." She took a lock of her messed-up green hair and began twirling it in her index finger. "You know...look so fine, honey. Heh, heh, heh."

"I know that, all ready." Freakshow began rubbing the back of his fingers across Harley's pale cheek. "And you don't look half-bad yourself, baby." He took the back of her head and placed his lips upon hears. The two teenage Whos moaned in pleasure as Freakshow climbed onto the metal table and they began wrapping their arms around each other.

"Oooooooooohhhh, Freaky." Vicky purred with her mouth covered by Freakshow's, drawing circles on the psycho's back.

Finally, Freakshow pulled back from his ever-lasting kiss with Vicky and jumped off the metal table. "My, my, it would seem that the experiment was a success. You're obsessed with me and you're actually smiling more." He looked down next to the table and saw the black suitcase, which made him grin maliciously, "Oh! Oh, I just remembered something. Say, Vicky, you know, I actually came here to give you a little gift."

"Aww, honey bunch." She smiled crazily, sitting up on the metal table and clapping her clammy hands together. "You're gonna give me a gift? That's so thoughtful of you."

"Yeah, but what can I say? I'm a giver." Freakshow pulled up an empty tray from across the room and put the suitcase on top of it sideways. "I was just thinking; ordinary Whos would usually predict another's danger by their appearance." He unlocked it and opened the top, revealing three sets of folded clothing inside it. "Sure, you may all ready look kind of crazy, but you're in serious need of a new look."

Vicky rolled her eyes and said, while pulling on her loose black sweater, "Oh, I _know. _This sweater has just gotten so out of date."

"Well, I took a little trip to our designers and after several attempts, we made something in your size." Freakshow looked over the three folded sets of spandex Lycra clothing tucked into the suitcase. They were individually coloured blue, red and green. Tapping his chin, he cocked his head to Vicky and asked, "Hey Vick, which is your favourite colour; blue, red or green?"

"Oh, I just love green." Vicky hugged her sides, thinking of her favourite colour. She then frowned, "It's just that blue and red all ways make me look fat."

Freakshow thought to himself, _'Trust me, you don't need to wear blue or red for that.' _but smirked as he picked out the green set of folded spandex lycra clothes. He held them in front of Vicky, saying silkily, "Well, you're gonna love this, honey."

"Wow, what is it?" Vicky looked at the spandex lycra clothing in awe as Freakshow unfolded it. The clothing was a shining catsuit from the neck down. It was coloured bright green with grey Vs on the left sleeve and grey with green stripes on the right. The tights were coloured bright green with grey Vs on the right and grey with green stripes on the left. Finally, hanging from the waist section was a silver utility belt.

The deranged psycho answered as he pulled something else out of the suitcase in his free hand, "Your costume..." He was holding a green and grey spandex lycra mask. It had been designed for Vicky's hair to protrude outwards from the top and it also had holes for her eyes, nose and mouth.

Vicky looked at the mask and began laughing, at first quietly, but then loud and hard, showing most of her teeth as she did. After being handed it to her, Vicky pulled the mask right over her face, allowing her green hair to flow beautifully out of the hole for it. "Heh, heh, heh, heh! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Huahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!"

The two lunatics began laughing insanely in the run-down laboratory as they embraced each other in their tight grasps. Meanwhile, Marvin Caine stood outside the metal door, muttering something to himself like, _"Sheesh...teenagers..."_

* * *

Back with Horton and co, the group had been given full permission by Commissioner Martyn to carry out the investigation of their new lead. But they had limited access to police resources and their funding was strictly limited. It wasn't exactly easy for them, but they had to make best with what they had at their disposal. Fortunately for them, the police had managed to capture several crooks that possible affiliations to Devon, now Freakshow's syndicate. They were allowed to interrogate them so to help them in their investigation, but so far, no luck. That was mainly because some of their methods of interrogation, all though standard were not that well executed.

Sitting in the pitch white interrogation room right now was Harvey Chilton, a 23-year-old drug dealer on Devon, now just recently Freakshow's payroll. Chilton was just a common crook, but did earn a decent amount for his services to the syndicate. He had been caught in the early hours of this morning, while making a drug trade with a couple of teenage youths. Him and the youths were arrested instantly and were kept in cells at the police station. That was until it Horton got an idea for the Noolians to try their first interrogation, leading up to the current moment.

Vlad slammed his wings on the table in front of him and Horton, glaring angrily at Harvey Chilton, whom was sitting at the opposite end. On the side of the table was a playing recorder, which was recording all that was being said in the interrogation room. He said sternly at Chilton, staring directly into his eyes, "Look, Chilton, tell us all the secrets behind Devon's death!"

Horton then took over from Vlad and then said to Chilton in a more reasonable way, "Sorry about that, Chilton. But please hear us out; we're trying to find out if there's more to Devon's death than we all ready know. So _do _know anything about it?" Horton and Vlad were clearly using the good cop/bad cop technique to get their information, Horton as the good cop and Vlad as the bad cop. However, Chilton was no idiot and he recognized this technique anywhere.

"Well..." Harvey Chilton cracked his neck right and left and told his interrogators, "...normally, I would have no problem in ratting out one or two of my associates. But what you seem to be forgetting is that this is a powerful crime syndicate. I can't just reveal powerful information."

"But _why _can't you reveal powerful information?" Vlad demanded angrily, his claws scratching hard on the table's surface, leaving noticeable marks.

"Because they will kill me, bird brain."

Growling viciously Vlad pulled something out from under the table. It was a long sharp knife! "You think _I_ won't, Chilton?!" Vlad roared, brandishing it in front of Chilton's face.

"Woah! Woah!" Horton grabbed Vlad's claw with his trunk before he could make any attempt on Chilton. "Easy, easy, put it down, put it down." Eventually, Vlad lowered his claw and dropped the long sharp knife onto the table. When the black-bottom eagle backed away, Horton addressed Chilton again, "Look, I understand that revealing powerful information would put you in danger, but you can be given police protection."

But Chilton merely shook his head dismissively, "Nah, that won't do any good, Horton. Freakshow's far too powerful to be stumped by some police protection." He paused for a moment, but then answered, "In fact, the truth is, I don't even _know _anything about Devon's death. Anything except for the fact Freakshow came to the bunker one night, shot Devon in the chest and took over as the new Boss."

"How exactly does that work?" Vlad arched his eyebrow suspiciously.

Chilton cleared his throat a bit and explained, though somewhat hesitantly, "This syndicate...the syndicate I am part of is run by an executive board. The Chairman of that board is also known as the Boss, you know, the top guy." He brushed the sweat off of his forehead, "Now, the Boss will remain in that position until his death." A grin then appeared on Chilton's face, "Now, when you are in such a powerful and prosperous position that will only end by death, it is normal for some of the _lessers _to become a little jealous of you." He then made the gesture of putting a gun to his head. "Some who are extremely jealous might even gather enough nerve to cock their guns...aim...and..." Chilton then made it look as if he had just been shot in the head. "Well...I think you get the basic idea."

Horton now understood what all this meant. "Ah...so the successor to the Boss position is the former Boss' assailant." He concluded as if a light-bulb had appeared over his head.

Chilton clapped his hands and applauded the large elephant like a slick game show host, "Ding, ding, ding, ding, ding! You are correct! Congratulations, Mr. Horton, you have won the grand prize!"

"Cool! What did I win?" Horton asked eagerly, completely lost in his own accomplishment, while making Vlad groan and cover his face with his wing.

Chilton's gleeful expression then turned gruff and angry once again as he snapped angrily, "Nothing...you idiot!"

This made Horton frown, kind of ticked-off. "You know, that was unnecessary."

"Oh, ho! Whatcha gonna do, trunky?" Chilton goaded the grey elephant smugly. "What, are you going to go back to bad cop mode, Dumbo?!"

"Wait, what?" Horton looked at Chilton, baffled as to what he meant. "I've never been the bad cop, Vlad's all ways been that one."

The crook laughed mockingly, crossing his arms, "No, no, no, no, Horton." He pointed to the elephant first, "You see, in the beginning of this interrogation, you were the bad cop, Horton." Chilton then pointed at the black-bottom eagle, "And Vlad was the good cop." He looked at them both and stated, while chuckling, "You, you guys got mixed up like...like 20 minutes ago!" Harvey Chilton began laughing loudly at the two Noolian's cluelesness. They probably would have never realised this if the crook hadn't pointed it out.

"We did not!" Horton pointed angrily at Chilton with his trunk as he stood up tall on his two hind legs, towering over the crook. "Now listen, we may be nearing the end of out interrogation, but don't think I'm still not allowed to use a taser." He looked at Vlad, asking confused, "Uh, we did bring in a taser, didn't we?"

Vlad gulped and looked uneasily at Chilton, whispering to him with caution, "It's best not to push him any further, Chilton. I can't control him when he get's like this."

"Ha, ha, ha!" Chilton guffawed, grasping his own sides. He pointed at Vlad again, "Now once again, _you're _the good cop!"

Horton and Vlad looked at each other and exclaimed, _"What?!" _All the while, Chilton just continued to laugh out loud. The crook may have been looking forward to a while in jail, but he was seriously enjoying this. And at least he would be able to go to jail knowing he wouldn't be iced by Freakshow's thugs once he got out.

This interrogation had really proven to be not much help at all in the Noolians' investigation. They had found out how exactly Freakshow had taken control of Devon's syndicate, but why would he do it anyway? Did he actually want to get into the crime business and killing Devon was the best way to get to the top fast? Jojo McDodd had never had interest in crime, but then again, the deformed Who was no longer Jojo McDodd anymore. All Horton and co. could say was that they had only just scratched the surface of their investigation. They had to search deeper...

* * *

That night at 11:50 PM...

Whoville's biggest transport was and all ways had been it's elevated train system, the_ Whoville Express_. It was a high-tech train system that overlooked the central business district and most of the North and East of Whoville. Many Whos did have cars to get around town, but the _Whoville Express _was the fastest and easiest method of transport in town. It had been around for more then 60 years, so the once shining white exterior of the train had dulled and become victim to one or two of Devon's graffiti artists.

The control bridge of the entire _Whoville Express _was located in downtown Whoville. There, the train system came to an end and the last station for the passengers to board or depart was positioned right underneath. It was quite a benefit for a lot of the lower-middle class citizens living in downtown, since they could then get jobs working on the control bridge and the _Whoville Express _itself. Little did anyone know on that cold crispy November night, over 400 lives would be taken anyway by the acts of a madman and his goons...

Only two Whos were working in the control bridge right now, sitting at the huge control panels, in front of the wide glass window that overlooked the elevated tracks for the _Whoville Express. _They were both in their early forties, coloured dark blue in fur colour and dressed in standard formal white shirts and black ties. These two's job was to monitor the train's progress across the tracks and to change it's course need be. Their jobs were considered quite important of the _Whoville Express' _mainframe, but still, that did not mean they got the best pay.

The first Who took out a tray of doughnuts and two cups of coffee and positioned them on the side, not too close to the control panel. He looked over his shoulder to the other Who and asked, "Hey, Joe, you want some coffee?"

"Do you have decaf?"

"Sure."

The second Who, known as Joe, held out his hand for the cup, saying, "Okay, sure. What the heck?" After the first Who handed him the cup of decaffeinated coffee, Joe told him, "Oh, yeah, Paul, I forgot to tell you I've just got a reply from Who U for my application for that professor job."

"Seriously?" The first Who, known as Paul, looked at his co-worker in surprise, "What did they say?"

Joe groaned, leaning back in his chair and putting his feet up on the side next to the control panel. "They said I didn't have just the right experience for the job. I guess I can't really blame them, I've been working here at the control bridge for over ten years now."

"Too bad you didn't get the job." Paul shrugged, dunking a sugar-frosted doughnut in his cup of coffee and took a bit. "You could have set up your own research there..." He then laughed mockingly at his co-worker, "Heh, heh, you could have tried to create Whoville's first coffee that doesn't have the slightest bitter taste to it. Ha, ha!"

"Oh, yeah, hah, hah, hah." Joe huffed sarcastically, after finishing his cup of decaffeinated coffee.

Behind the two chatting co-workers, the sliding elevator doors that lead into the control bridge _swooshed _open, letting bright light into the dimly lit grey room. The two co-workers looked behind their chairs and saw another Who was walking out of the elevator and into the room. He was dressed in a formal blue shirt and a hat and ID card that had _'SECURITY' _engraved on each.

"Good evening, gentlemen." The Who said as he walked into the room with the elevator door shutting behind him. "Working the late night shift, are we?"

"Yes." Paul answered, not really recognizing this Who from before. "Um, I'm sorry, who are you?" He had met all the security guards in the control bridge at least once, but he had not ever seen this guy in all his time working here.

The mysterious Who chuckled somewhat darkly and continued to walk forward so the two could see him properly. "I'm a new security worker here, just got the job a couple of days ago." He tipped up his hat and then tapped his ID card. "My name is Henri White. I'm just here to check up on things."

Joe looked at Paul and both nodded, the first saying to White as he turned his attention back to the control panel. "Oh, well, welcome, Mr. White. I'm Joe and he's Paul." He introduced himself and his co-worker while jabbing his thumb at Paul.

"Thank you. It's a pleasure to meet you both, Joe and Paul." White took a quick view of the room. "So, I presume everything here is in ship shape?"

Paul took another sup of his coffee, "Uh, yeah, sure. Things are all right."

"Good, good." White walked straight up to the two co-workers and looked over the control panel. "Say, I forgot. What time is it?"

Joe checked his wrist-watch, "Oh, 11:55 PM. Nearly midnight."

White nodded as he pulled out his baton from his holster and tapped the side of his head with it. "Interesting. Hey, doesn't the late night train pass by here at midnight?"

"Yeah, it passes right there." Paul answered, while pointing out the viewing window to a far-off section of elevated track that was positioned right in front a billboard advertising tooth paste. "But it makes a Hell of a lot of noise, too. I'm telling you, that God-damn screeching noise the train makes when it runs along the tracks makes my teeth curl."

This actually made White snigger as he batted the baton in the palm of his hand. "Oh, there will be no need to worry about that, my good man." He stood in between the two co-workers, whom were continuing with their work as if he wasn't even standing there. Smirking secretly, White began raising the baton in his hand higher and higher above their heads. "After all, who said you two were going to be here tonight when it passes?"

Joe forced himself to laugh a bit as he tapped a few keys onto the control panel. "Well, it's not like we're gonna get the night off or anything. But to be honest with ya, White, I wouldn't mind having one of those, right now."

"Oh, you will, my friend." He raised his baton so high above the two's heads that it cast a shadow over them. His secret grew wider and malicious. _"You will..." _Joe and Paul only noticed the shadow and looked behind them when it was too late.

_Thwack! Thwack!_

The two co-workers let out low groans before they fell out of their chairs, hit their heads on the control panels and dropped to the floor. They were now both unconscious. Laughing out loud, the security guard pulled off his hat and tossed it across the room. It was none other than Claude!

Claude took his mobile phone out of his holster and spoke into it, "I've taken care of the workers in the control bridge, sir. They said that the train will be passing by here on the track that is in front of that billboard. You know, the one advertising tooth paste?"

_"Well done, Claude. We'll meet you up there." _was the reply from over the phone.

"Okay, how long do you think you'll be before you get here? I mean, this has to be done within a few minutes or it crashes all around us."

"_Oh, I dunno, I was thinking..." _A present voice then spoke from behind Claude as bright light shone into the room. "...two seconds ago!"

Claude jumped in surprise and turned around to see who else standing in the open elevator but his employer; Freakshow! Standing next to him were two goons dressed in black jumpers and wearing black sunglasses over their eyes. But what really stunned Claude was the female Who standing behind Freakshow to the right.

It was Vicky Vikally, but boy did she look different. She was wearing her shining skin-tight bright green and grey patterned catsuit and around her waist she wore her silver utility built. On her hands and feet she was wearing sleek and durable black gauntlets and boots. Finally, she was wearing her specially designed green and grey mask over her face, which allowed her green hair to protrude outwards. To put it frankly, she looked seriously hot in her new outfit!

"My God, how did you guys get up here so fast without being stopped by security?!"

Freakshow held up his desert eagle, which had a silencer, "Let's just say, I praise the Who that invented the gun silencer!" The deformed Who looked at the three Whos standing beside him. "All right, everyone, let's get this over with quickly! We only have a few minutes to do it right!" Freakshow marched into the control room with the other three following him. This mission was definitely not one of his easiest. It seemed a lot easier to execute in his planning, but in reality, it was really a heart-pounding, panic-inducing mission that could so easily go wrong. A little lesson for him to keep in mind for the future. The psycho ordered to the two goons towering over next to him, "You two, you're both technicians. Go get to work on those controls! Remember, you have to re-route the tracks so that they pass the track in front of the tooth paste billboard."

"Yes, sir." The two goons ran over to the chairs where Joe and Paul had been sitting and got to work. Their job was, as you guessed, to re-route the train's journey so that it crossed the tracks in front of the billboard by switching the tracks. And then what after that? Well, let's just say things were going to get messy.

Freakshow looked at Vicky and said to her in a much more calm and pleasant tone, "V, baby..." He pinched her on the cheek slightly. "...I need you to help me with these two." The deformed Who gestured to the unconscious Paul and Joe.

"Sure, Freaky, hon. Anything for you." Vicky replied with her now trademark creepy grin. She and Freakshow then grabbed the two unconscious Whos and sat them up next to each other. Vicky opened a compartment in her belt and pulled something out. It was a thick bundle of long nylon rope. The female Who began tying it around several times around the two unconscious co-workers.

"Great, you work on that; I need to make a quick phone call." Freakshow left Vicky to her work in tying up the two co-workers and snatched the mobile phone off of Claude, whom had been giving a good look at Vicky's behind in her new outfit. "Gimme that, you idiot!" He dialled in a few numbers and spoke into it, talking to Who on the other end. "Fred, are you and the squad ready to proceed?"

The voice responded from over the phone, _"Yes, sir. We intercepted the call like you told us to. We have no made our way under the track in front of the billboard."_

The deformed Who asked, running back and took a look at the unconscious Joe's watch, "Are you right by the support column?"

"_Yes."_

"Right. Plant the bombs, set them for two minutes and run like hell!" Freakshow ordered into the phone strictly, after seeing the time on unconscious Joe's watch. "The train will be here in any minute, now!"

_"Of course. We will not let you down, sir."_

Freakshow disconnected the phone and tossed it back to Claude while giving him a dirty look. "Oh, and Claude, just a little tip: find your own little mistress!" On 'mistress' Freakshow cocked his head to Vicky, meaning he was still ticked-off by him looking at her the way he did.

Claude nodded nervously, "Y-yes, sir."

"Nice to see we have an understanding." Freakshow looked back at Vicky, whom had finished tying up Paul and Joe together with her rope. He grinned, wrapping his hand around her waist, "Nice work, baby. I didn't know you had such a knack with knots."

Vicky stood up and grabbed her boyfriend by his waist tightly, giggling, "Oh, Freaky, I wouldn't mind tying you down some time." She took the end of nylon rope tying Joe and Paul together and gave it a tug. "You know what I mean?"

"Ha! I know what you mean, honey." Freakshow tapped her on her nose and then took something out of his pocket. It was a small card, like ones you would find in poker decks. On the front it had the picture of his little calling card. Best use actual cards, instead of carrying spray paint cans around all the time. Freakshow saw a small pocket on the front of Joe's shirt and tucked the card inside, while speaking to the unconscious Who as if he were awake, "Here's my card, buddy. We'll do lunch. Ha, ha, ha!" The deformed Who then pulled out his desert eagle that had a silencer inserted on the firing end and aimed it at their heads.

"What are you doing?" Claude looked at his Boss with a confused look, all though he obviously knew what was going to happen. "It's not like we're going to get trouble from any witnesses."

Freakshow rolled his eyes dryly, "I know. This is just for fun." He pulled down on the trigger, sending two bullets into each of the unconscious Whos' heads, leaving only two blooded holes. The silencer stopped any loud noise attracting any unwanted attention, of course. After laughing to himself, Freakshow glared at his two technicians and barked, "Hey, you two, what's taking so long! We've only got moments left before this whole plan goes up in smoke!!"

Not wanting to anger his boss, one of the technicians looked back at Freakshow and said with reassurance, "No need to worry, sir. We're finished!"

The second technician nodded and pointed to one of the screens on top of the control panel. "He's right. The tracks have been switched and the train's route has been successfully changed according to plan. Why all we need now is..."

_**Ka-Blam!**_

The five looked out the viewing window to see a bright plume of fire and smoke rising up above the track in front of the billboard, not far off. The track had been completely destroyed and the billboard had been covered up in the thick black smoke. It was so bright you could see in from the Mayor's balcony from all the way across town.

With the others completely awe-struck, Freakshow spoke up quickly, "Okaaaay, I think we can catch the rest of the fireworks from downstairs. Let's go, let's go!" No one hesitated in following their leader right back into the elevator, leaving Paul and Jo dead and tied up. It was all most a good thing that they were no longer alive at this time, because this means the two of them would not be witnesses to one of Whoville's horrific events in history...

On their way to the bottom of the control bridge, beneath the elevated train station, Claude had to make a rushed call to the Who known as Fred and the other Whos who had blown up the tracks. They needed them down there at the building for a pick-up.

* * *

Bursting through the doors at the back of the bottom of the building, Freakshow and his goons ran out into the cold night and looked around for the van Fred would be driving. "God damn it, where are they?!" Freakshow shouted, looking in each direction for any sight of the van.

_Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech! _

A small black van roared as it launched itself out of the alleyway in between two of the buildings facing opposite the control bridge tower. It sped up to the group of five and came to a screeching stop in front of them. The door slid open and a Who wearing a blue bandanna over his head leaned out. This was Fred, the Who Freakshow had employed to carry out the bomb part of the mission, with great pay of course.

"What took you so long?!" Freakshow climbed into the van, pushing past Fred as he did.

"Well, you only called us about a minute ago." Fred tried to reason as he allowed Vicky, Claude and the two technicians move past him into the van. "And we're pretty low on petrol."

Ignoring Fred's excuses, Vicky couldn't help but notice something; the train. It hadn't crossed the track that the bombing squad had destroyed and yet, it had just passed midnight. Looking out the open door from her seat next to Freakshow, she commented, "Uh, Freaky, hon? Where's the train?"

This was a good question for Freakshow. He thought that the train should have come by now. Before he answered, the deformed Who put his hand to his ear and listened, "Wait...wait..." He then heard something coming. "Okay, I hear the train. Let's go, you lot. It's going to get messy."

Fred slid the door shut and yelled to the driver in front, "You heard him, put the pedal to the metal, you idiot!"

Clearly frustrated, the driver slammed his foot on the acceleration pedal, exclaiming, "All right, all right, stop yelling at me!" With a fierce jolt, the van sped off into the alleyway in which it came. "There, I'm doing it, are you happy?!"

"Okay! Sheesh, calm down." Freakshow crossed his arms and huffed. It looked like someone needed some anger management lessons. Turning attention back to Vicky, who was sitting up comfortably to the deformed Who, he remarked to her, putting his hands through her hair, "You know, V, I was really impressed with your work back there. Especially since it was what, your first job."

"Well, I could never let _you _down, Freaky." Vicky responded with flirting eyes, resting her head on Freakshow's shoulder. "If I ever let you down..." She began hyperventilating and clutched her chest. "...I'd...I'd **KILL **myself!" Vicky grabbed Freakshow's shoulders and looked straight into his eyes. "You hear that, I love you so much I'd kill myself if I disappointed you! Kill myself!"

Freakshow and Claude slowly looked at each other with 'what the hell' looks. This was seriously creepy, even for a psychologically damaged fan girl. Slipping out of her vice-like grip, Freakshow told her slowly, "That's...very...interesting, Vick. Glad to see you have such a great devotion and...and, uh..." Thankfully for the deformed Who, he didn't have to finish his sentence at that point...

_**Screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee! Craaaaaaaaaaasssh! Aaaaaaaaaaggghhh!** _

When the group notice a bright orange light coming from behind them through the car window screen on the trunk door, they got a pretty good idea what that and those noises were. While the others just either cringed or took a look back through the screen window on the trunk door, Freakshow seemed completely unaffected.

"What's the matter with you lot? You look like you've just seen a ghost." Freakshow didn't feel any concern for any of those on the train that have most likely met their sudden and painful deaths. He had been planning this operation last night, even before he sent that transmission throughout all of Whoville. He had to rush over the plan a few times with his goons, so it wasn't exactly well-structured like the bank robbery. But at least the job had been done without any flaws or set-backs. "Hey, Vicky, pass me my brandy, will ya?"

Vicky nodded and pulled something out from underneath her seat. It was a metal flash and cup. After quickly pouring some of the distilled beverage into the cup, Vicky handed it to her Boss/boyfriend, "Here you go. But Freaky, there's no need to be so formal, you can call me by a little costume name if you want."

Freakshow downed the brandy within a second and looked at Vicky somewhat confused, "Seriously?" He held his cup out again for Vicky to refill it, which she did. "Well, what would you want to be called?" He drunk the brandy down whole again, before looking at her sternly, "But it can't be anything with 'freak' or 'show' in it, because that's my shtick."

"Oh, I was just thinking along the lines of something with green..." Vicky laid down on Freakshow's lap and put her head to his chest. "Perhaps your little..." She rubbed her head against the front of his neck, chiming, _"...Green Lilith."_

"Hmm, Lilith...the name of a storm demon that was said to visit men in their erotic dreams and be the bearer of illness, disease, and death." Freakshow put on a thinking position for a moment or two, but then said simply without much care, "Eh, all right. Whatever suits you?"

Vicky Vikally, or should we know call Green Lilith, squealed and gave her boyfriend a bone-crushing hug, nearly cutting of his air passage. "Oooh, I just _knew _you'd love it and it would turn you on. Some of the guys thought it was too showy, but I knew better. Ha!"

_"Uh, Vicky...I mean, Lilith, I'm happy for ya, but...I'm losing air..." _Freakshow coughed and chocked, trying to pry Green Lilith off of him, but to no prevail. The only thing that got Lilith to let go of her was the loud sound of another explosion from not far off behind them in the distance. It was enough to shock everyone, including Lilith, whom released her vice-like hug of her Boss/boyfriend. It even made the driver up in front to nearly loss control of the wheel, it shocked him that much.

"...woah." Freakshow, who too was actually caught off guard by the sound of such an explosion. "What was in that train, anyway? Passengers or gasoline?" He then cackled at his own joke and held his hand up to Claude for a high-five. "Come on, Claude, that was classic. High-five."

Claude, knowing best not to anger his Boss, uneasily high-fived him, despite knowing it wasn't much of a good joke at all. "Y-yeah, great one, Boss. Just great."

"Ha, ha, ha! I know, I know, I'm a comedian!" Freakshow held out his cup to be refilled by Green Lilith, who obliged. "But I've seriously gotta write them down, though. Heh, heh, heh!"

* * *

**(A/N) And I will end it there, everyone. Once again, a long but worth the time and effort chapter. I hoped you liked how I brought Jerome and Zoe back into this story once again since the first chapters. I mean, they're going to have slightly more prominent roles in the future of the story, so I think it's best to give them more featuring time in between. Also, I think that part with Sally and Harley was pretty deep and emotional.**

**Oh, yes, I'm really pleased with the transformation of Vicky into the Green Lilith. I would like to thank Alius111, who gave me some help when coming up with the name. I decided to put Vicky to good use and made her the Harley Quinn to Jojo/Freakshow's Joker. **

**But to me, the best part of this chapter was the train crash plan. Truly diabolical and evil for a criminal like Freakshow, wouldn't you say? Well, anyway, more chaos and turmoil will be awaiting Whoville at the hands of Freakshow in the next chapter. Until then, Read and Review!**


	8. Chapter Seven: A twisted face of tragedy

**(A/N) All right, everyone, I am back with chapter seven. Now, this chapter is where after so many of his schemes, Freakshow reflects on himself and tries to concoct the biggest evil plot of his career. A plot even more diabolical and deleterious than the others, but what? During so, the villain even has a very personal flashback of his former self. Read on and see for yourselves.**

* * *

**Chapter Seven**

**A twisted face of tragedy**

Times in Whoville had never been darker than they were right now. A fortnight had passed since the 'Great _Whoville Express _Crash', Freakshow's most evil plan yet which resulted in the deaths of a recorded 112 deaths. After that night, only utter chaos and disorder have followed ever since. Freakshow, his new accomplice Green Lilith and their men had launched a wild spree of jewellery store, lesser bank, etc. robberies and vicious killings; beyond the common urban criminal profile.

Every morning in Whoville, buildings had been found lethally vandalised with everything of value inside pilfered and only Freakshow's literal calling card left behind. And if not ravaged buildings, then a group of later identified Whos would be found dead within the streets of Whoville. In fact, a great deal of them would be found chained to alleyway walls or suspending from street lamps by thick metal chains around their necks. In the first week it was not so lethal, perhaps a bullet or stab in the chest at the most. However, in the second week, things got crazieras more mortifyingly, Freakshow's malicious grin would be found carved deep within the flesh of the victim's chest with a blade. By the looks of it, the murders were only going to get even more mortifying.

What were Whoville's politicians and police force doing to stop this murderous crime wave? Very little, to be frank. It was not like they were not trying to put an end to this madness, it was because they could not find any lead to Freakshow's whereabouts. Even when the police rarely caught Freakshow and his murderous merry men in the act, they found that they were immensely outnumbered and outgunned. To put it short, very few of those cops lived to tell their tale. But what was even worse was that since Freakshow crimes were taking up a lot police attention, this allowed all the other thugs and criminal to emerge from the shadows. Most of which were caught with ease, but it didn't exactly make things the slightest bit easier.

As for the politicians, their public images were now at an all time low. You could imagine Mayor Ned McDodd's would be, what with the now transparent fact that Freakshow is his own son. The whole situation had put Ned in a state of depression, making him conceal himself in his office and burying himself under his work. Poor Ned barely even took time to his family anymore; he felt that down in the dumps. Meanwhile, Chairman Victor Vonfrood and the other members of the council were also feeling the sting. They had promised that Freakshow would be caught and brought to justice before the beginning of December, where preparations would be made for Whoville's number one holiday: Christmas. It was two weeks into the month. Whoville could not spend perhaps the best holiday of the year under a shadow of fear. So in desperation, the city council has used all their influence of the media to cover-up most of the deaths at the hands of Freakshow. It put the councilmen in an even more uncomfortable position especially when persistent news reporter exposed the covered-up Freakshow murders.

Horton and co. had been continuing with their investigation, but with very little success. They had interrogated as many of the captured Freakshow's henchmen as they possibly could; however the information they found was not exactly what they were looking for. The group had been trying to unravel the secrets behind Devon's murder at the hands of Freakshow, but they heard was shocking. A common gunman under Freakshow's payroll confessed Green Lilith's identity as Vicky Vikally, Jojo McDodd's former girlfriend, which would explain her sudden disappearance. This then put Freakshow on the charges of kidnapping and as the gunman explained, severe psychological torment that could have permanently damaged her mind. The gunman himself was found dead with Freakshow's grin carved into his chest. Next, another one of Freakshow's thugs spilled that there was going to be a mass theft at one of the jewellery stores in South Whoville. On the night the robbery was taking place, Freakshow's men received a nasty surprise when the cops arrived. Only a few of the crooks were caught, while the rest got away with ease via their van with their riches. Horton and co. didn't get anything out of those caught and those crooks were sent on a one-way ticket to jail.

Now what of Whoville's own super villain Freakshow himself? He was actually going through a stressful time himself. It was nothing like what the innocent citizens of Whoville were going through, his predicament was that of a mental block. He had been finding it hard to come up with any top-notch devious schemes as of late. Yes, he now had money, a hot mistress and the mere mention of his name would strike fear into the hearts of Whos, but that was not enough for Freakshow in the slightest. His robbery of the first national bank of Whoville and the 'Great _Whoville Express _Crash' had so far been the psycho's claims to criminal fame, but why tune things down after that. Freakshow wanted to pull off a job that would define whom was really running this once peaceful city. Now, if you wanted an evil plan to have such extreme affects like that, then you're going to have to seriously think your plan over and plot it to the very last detail. So the only real question for Freakshow was a pretty straight forward one: what was his super evil plan going to be? Because at the current moment, he was having a 'difficult' time as it were coming up with ideas...

* * *

"No. No. No! NO! **NO!" **Freakshow grabbed the blueprints and began tearing it to shreds with his bare hands and teeth in seething frustration. It was late at night and he had confined himself inside his private room in his private room within the bunker under 29 Zoombazi Avenue. He was wearing his same attire except for the charcoal blazer and his shirt sleeves were folded up. The madman sat at his desk under an extended active desk lamp, where he was drawing up blueprints for his third and greatest plan to date. But he was not having an easy time with it. Why did it have to be now he got himself into a mental block?

The bank robbery and train crash were easily concocted, but that was because they were the usual comic super villain schemes, for the bank robbery at least. What Freakshow wanted of his scheme was for it to be able to spread mass chaos across Whoville like the plague. Money could easily be reprinted to replace the amount he stole and the council could simply order the construction of a new train for the _Whoville Express. _Hence, he also wanted this plan of his to leave some _permanent _damage, especially at a time like the nearing of Christmas. That also meant it was nearing the end of the year and his father and the council had to surrender the city to him by then. That was his goal, for Pete's sake. They were still not caving in, no matter how many deaths and robberies Freakshow committed. Perhaps this plan would finally push them over their edge and leave them no option but surrender. So the only thing in Freakshow's way now was actually coming up with the plan!

Freakshow began rambling to himself as paced back and forth in front of his desk, hitting the sides of his head with his fists. "Oh, come on, Freakshow! You're smart enough to come up with a much more intelligent plan that _this_!" He held the final scrunched shred of the blueprint in his head and flicked it straight into the garbage bin next to his desk. "I mean, assassinating my father; that's too personal and he can be replaced by Harley or at least until she's old enough, Chairman Vonfrood. Spiking the entire city's water supply with a psychotropic hallucinogen; affective and theatrical but it'll take too long to set up and get enough of the drugs without attracting too much unwanted attention. Now, using a giant wooden horse to fake surrender, while hiding an atom bomb inside; I like the bomb part, but it's _far _too Greek!"

"Well, of course it's too Greek, but if it works, don't fix it!" a smoother and even darker version of Freakshow's all ready smoother and dark voice spoke out from in front of the psycho. He stopped his pacing and looked forward to see a tall mirror at the far end of the room next to the black leather seat, facing opposite his desk. All Freakshow saw was of course his reflection, starring menacingly right back at him.

Speaking normally, Freakshow slapped his hand over his eyes, groaning, "Oh, dear sweet God in Heaven, here it goes! Once again, I am talking to myself!" He added sarcastically, "That is _just _what I need!" The psycho had not experienced a moment where he was talking to himself since he was locked up in a padded cell at the hospital. Freakshow had thought of himself sane enough for it at least to never happen again and yet, here he was.

"Look, don't be such a prat!" Freakshow's reflection rebuked. "All I'm saying is it sounds like a plan that can work! That's a compliment, for God's sake!"

The real deformed Who picked up one of the shreds on the floor and showed his reflection the picture of a giant wooden horse. "No one in their right mind is going to buy it! I mean, yeah, a part of me still thinks it might. But then again, I'm not completely in my right state of mind, now am I?"

"Well, I can't exactly say otherwise. I'm talking to myself for the second-time now. That's never a good sign. Never."

Freakshow turned back to his desk and slammed his fist hard onto it. "Well, I know that, but that is _not _what I am concerned about. All I care about right now is coming up with my master plan!" He then marched right back up to the mirror and looked at this reflection right in the eye, snarling, "So...go away. Right now."

"Make myself." The reflection of the homicidal maniac smirked smugly. But before the actual Freakshow could even pull back his first, the reflection put up his hand to stop him. "But then again, I'm sure that not even I would want to get glass stuck in my hand!"

Freakshow was so close to ramming his fist into the mirror, but after a moment, he finally lowered his fist and walked back to the desk in a sulk. "Fine...fine...whatever. I really couldn't care less." Deciding it best to ignore his bickering reflection, Freakshow sat down on a revolving chair, pulled out another sheet of blueprint and placed it flat on the desk. "Well, best get back to brainstorming." He picked up his pencil and pressed the rubber end on his forehead as he began thinking.

"Wow, I've never seen myself so down." Freakshow heard his reflection comment from behind him.

"Me neither." Our living breathing Freakshow agreed, now tossing the pencil up into the air and catching it in his hand again and again. "I'm just going through a mental block at a very inconvenient time. It's nothing too serious. I just I can get passed it and move on with my plan."

"Hmmm..." A snapping of fingers could then be heard as the reflection spoke again, "Hey, perhaps my mental block is all due to a bad case of post homicidal depression."

The actual homicidal Who couldn't believe his own ears. He was actually suggesting that to himself?! "Post homicidal depression?!" The deformed psycho roared, spinning around on his chair and glaring daggers at his reflection. "I have no sympathy for those I kill! For crying out loud, I killed over 100 Whos with the train crash and I slept like a log! A freakin' log!"

Freakshow's reflection frowned as he wiped off a strip of dust that had formed on the mirror surface with his finger. "Sheesh, have I ever heard of cleaning up? This whole room is so dusty it looks like a haunted house!" His attention turned back to the matter at hand with the plan and suggested. "Oh, well, how about I take a look other the required aspects of this mystery plan, shall I? It has to spread mass chaos and leave some permanent damage to Whoville. Right, well how about I include some massacre?"

The real Freakshow shook his head, "Nah. A good idea, but it's been...well...done. I committed massacre by the train crash. I'm sure killing over 100 Whos is enough to count as massacre."

"I think so." The reflection scratched the back of his head. He thought up a new suggestion for the plan. "Um...how about I...kidnap a politician and holding him for ransom?"

"Naaaah."

"A giant robot to terrorize the city?"

"No, that will take too long to build."

"Hyper-death ray?"

"Okay, seriously, you have got to be freakin' kidding me!"

The reflection sighed tiredly, put one hand on his hip and smoothed out his own hair. "Well, then I'm out of ideas." His eyes widened and the reflection chuckled, "Wait...I just came up with a whole new idea. Maybe I should try banging my head on the desk several times until I think of something. That all ways works." He snorted a bit before laughing out loud, "Ha, ha, ha! I, I'm sure a few whacks on the old noggin will do the trick! Ha, ha, ha!"

Looking up from his blueprints for about the hundredth time, the real Freakshow put his fingertips together, calmly took in a deep breath and then exhaled. Seeing a large dagger placed right next to his blueprints, Freakshow picked it up in his hand and examined it. Sharp, light and sturdy. Spinning around on his revolving chair to face the mirror, the psycho held the blade up by the handle. "Hey..." This caught the reflection's attention. "...think fast!" He screamed loudly.

Freakshow pulled back the dagger and lobbed it as hard as he could at the screaming reflection in mirror. The entire surface of the mirror shattered to hundreds of shards upon impact, sending them onto the floor in a mess. The deformed Who began panting heavily and beads of sweat dripped down his face. He took a red handkerchief and patted his face with it. He just couldn't work like this, so he pushed away the blueprints before him and switched the desk lamp off.

Pulling himself off of the revolving chair, Freakshow trekked across the private room to the black leather seat positioned short off from the destroyed mirror, avoiding stepping on any of the mirror shards as he did. Carefully, he sat down and leaned back in his leather seat. He picked up the black remote on the side table next to his seat and clicked it in the direction of his new plasma high definition 110 inch television. He had been able to afford this fabulous new television set from the spoils of the first bank robbery. Freakshow turned to channel three, which was currently showing the very first movie of the famous comic book hero, _The Batwho. _Even when he was a young Jojo, the psycho Who had all ways been a big fan of the caped crusader. He read all the comic books, was sure to wake up early every Saturday to watch the animated series and even attended one or two conventions in his lifetime.

"Heh, heh, heh." Freakshow chuckled, watching the Batwho on the screen beat the living daylights out of a criminal on a roof top. "Oh, Batwho, you slay me! Way to beat the living tar out of that son of a bitch!" He calmed down and dropped the remote back onto the table. He wondered, while moving some hair out of his face. "Hmmm, maybe I can get some inspiration for my plan from this movie. Now let's see...in this first one, the Jester tries to poison the people of Whoville with a gas that makes them cackle hysterically until they die from a hernia. He does it in a parade by filling the giant balloons with the gas and releasing it onto the crowd during the festivities. Ha, ha, ha, ha! Ah, the Jester...truly one of the best comic book supervillains of all time." He then scoffed and waved his hand dismissively at the whole idea of doing something similar. "No, no, now. I can't copy him, that's just not good policy. That and I have very short time."

_Knock. Knock._

Freakshow all ready knew whom was standing there behind the private room door. "Come in, Lilith." He called loudly to the female Who that he knew for definite was behind that door.

The door handle turned and the door itself slowly creaked open, allowing a bright white light shine into the private room. The psycho cringed and narrowed his eyes. He had been inside his dark private room for hours now; hence his eyes had become a little sensitive to the light.

"Freaky, baby?" Green Lilith's smooth voice called into the room sweetly. The female spandex Lycra wearing Who smoothed her sides and strode into the room sexually, her backside shaking a little back and forth. Freakshow smirked a little. A little _company _would be just the thing right now. A lot of the women in this crime syndicate were shared between all the crooks and thugs like nice hunks of meat. But not Green Lilith. No, she was his-_all his. _

"Ah, my little green babe." Freakshow edged over to one side in his seat, patting the empty space in the leather seat. "Come and take a seat, sugar. I could use some pleasurable company here."

Green Lilith giggled, walking up to her Boss/boyfriend's leather seat and filled the empty space with her large rump. Just looking at her made Freakshow feel hot under the collar. She then pulled her legs up and rested them over Freakshow's lap, while wrapping her arms around his shoulder.

Freakshow noticed the flirtatious look on his girlfriend's face. "Okay, I know that look of yours, Lilith. What are you getting at?"

"Oh, I dunno...I was wondering if you would like me to play 'Catwho' for you tonight." Lilith purred like an affectionate cat, pecking Freakshow's flesh and teeth exposed cheek. "You know, like we did last night?" Freakshow's devilish grin grew large and wide. He remembered last night well indeed; playing their little sexual game which they called 'Catwho' in his bed with Green Lilith. After all, her being in skin-tight spandex Lycra made it extra fun for him.

"Well, the sounds pretty fun..." Freakshow giggled like a spoiled little child, while planting a kiss of his own on Green Lilith's lips. But just when Lilith thought she was in store for another night like the previous one, Freakshow sighed and merely slumped into his mistress' embrace. "But...I'm really stressed out at the moment. I guess I'm just not in the 'Catwho' playing mood tonight."

Green Lilith looked really disappointed at hearing this. "Aww, but why, Freaky? We had a great time last night." When she saw Freakshow pointing at his desk, she got the idea and frowned crossly. "Oh, Freaky, you really need to stop worrying about that dumb old 'super evil' plan of yours. Why can't you just take a moment to sit down, relax…?" She began tracing circles in his multicoloured hair. "...and enjoy your special little gal?"

"I'm trying to, sweetie. It's just that every time I think I've just come up with a new master plan, it turns out a complete mess." Freakshow began yanking on his own hair in aggravation as he stood up from his seat and got out of Green Lilith's tight grasp. He tried his best to think of what to say for the next part. "It's just like...like...well, I dunno...it's all just like..."

Lilith looked at her Boss/boyfriend sympathetically, "Like before you got your little, uh..._makeover?" _She used 'makeover' for the last word instead of something like 'mutilation' so that she wouldn't anger him.

Freakshow folded his arms behind his back and stated with a look of near depression on his screwed-up face. "Yes, yes, it's a lot like back then.Only this time it doesn't involve being overweight and an alcohol problem." He rubbed his temples in pain of those memories. "God, those are times I wish I could forget."

"You wanna talk about it, hon?" Green Lilith cocked her head.

"Okay, maybe I should, just to clear my head." Freakshow started pacing in front of Green Lilith in the leather chair. At first, he put on a mock impression of a desperate patient at a psychiatrist appointment. "Oh, doctor, doctor, I've gone absolutely crazy! The walls are closing in!"

"Freaky, could you at least act like you're trying to be serious with me?" Lilith rolled her eyes and laid the rest of her body out against the leather seat. "I'm actually trying to help you out here." She put on a fake emotionally hurt expression. "It makes me upset when you're like that."

"Oh, all right! Don't be such a baby!" Freakshow growled irritably, hunching over the desk and turning the large desk lamp on. "I'll put it straight and simple; the last six to seven months of my life have been worse than being in Hell itself!"

Lilith picked up a pen and notepad from the table next to the leather chair and began jotting things down in it. "Uh...huh...last six to seven months been Hell. Go on."

"I mean, sure, after the big clover incident, things were going okay, until the problem with alcohol came along." Freakshow made them impression of drinking down a large glass of alcohol and walked around all tipsy until he continued with his memoirs of misfortunes. "The excuse I gave to my parents that it was because of peer pressure wasn't good enough for them..."

Freakshow's mistress replied, tapping the opposite end of her pen on the notepad. "You could have said you were depressed at the time and that drinking alcohol was the only way to escape it."

Her psycho employer's expression turned angry and he shouted, "Okay, number one: that still wouldn't have been a good enough excuse. Number two: I would've had nothing to blame my so called 'depression' on! So bad idea, love! Bad idea!"

Lilith frowned, "Someone's getting testy, aren't they?"

Freakshow just ignored her remark as said quickly, "Anyway, after I was caught in the act, things then took a turn for the worst. My father thought it necessary to take me to a psychiatrist, who said with all his 'wisdom' I should try and take up a new hobby."

She arched her eyebrow, "And that let to food, didn't it?"

"Unfortunately." Freakshow patted his stomach and was actually quite surprised. He had lost quite a bit of weight over the last few weeks. His arms and legs had gotten a slightly thinner and now all he had was just a bulging stomach. "Wow...I have dropped a few pounds." But he noticed he was diverting from the topic and immediately got back on track. "But still, food was one of the things that just made everything even worse. It wasn't so bad at the beginning, but my physique sure paid the price. I got all the worst kind of teasing from our classmates. There was 'Plump Rump', 'Butterball', 'Porky' and, uh, there was, um..."

Green Lilith's face brightened up as she finished for him, "Oh, I know! 'Wide Load'! I remember that one!" She threw her head back and began laughing loud and hard. "Ha, ha, ha, ha! I-I remember when one of those kids wrote it on your locker in green spray paint! Ha, ha, ha!" Lilith shut up the very second she saw Freakshow glaring furiously at her. "...sorry."

"You sure didn't apologize when I caught you laughing along with them!" Freakshow stomped right up to Lilith, grabbed her by the shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. "You were my girlfriend, one of my very few friends back then who didn't leave my because of my weight and you cackled like a little witch at me!"

"Well, I...I..." Lilith stuttered helplessly. She knew now that she should not have laughed, because he looked furious.

A vicious scowl then spread across Freakshow's angry face. "And then...oh, and then you_...you left me, you little bitch!" _Freakshow raised his hand high above Green Lilith's face and used his free hand to keep her head in place. He quickly brought it down just when a flinching Lilith closed her eyes and braced for impact, she felt nothing. She opened her eyes and saw that Freakshow's hand was just hanging there in midair, inches away from her face. "Pah!" He released her and stormed off back to his desk. "You don't understand! You have never understood how I feel!"

Green Lilith didn't say a word. She knew he was right. She never understood how this tortured soul truly felt. In fact, all she had written on her notepad were just doodles of little animals and cartoon-like characters, no notes at all.

Resting his elbows on the desk surface, Freakshow placed his mutilated face in his hands, muttering quietly, "You...you never took the time to get to _know _me properly. Hell., the only reason you, you even agreed to be my girlfriend in the first place was...was because I was the Mayor's son, nothing else." He pulled his face out of his hands and merely put his chin on the back of his fingers. The way he was spoke was unmistakably ruthful. "It wasn't true love and this right now is forced love, all due to my manipulation of your brain." He turned his head 90 degrees, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. "You, Vicky Vikally were, despite the obvious vacancy of real love, the only thing I had left. I had few friends, little popularity, barely anything."

It took a moment, but Green Lilith spoke up in response, "You had music..."

Freakshow spun around and looked at her wide-eyed. "W-what?"

"Well...you were and still are great at music. And not to mention, you're still great at making those cool inventions of yours." Lilith suggested, putting the pen and the notepad back down on the table next to the leather seat. "You showed me your observatory that one night and that was really cool. Doesn't that count for something?"

The deformed Who blinked a few times and responded, "Inventions?" He looked down at his feet sadly. "Inventions are nothing, Vicky. I continued to build and build after the clover incident but it didn't make me any happier in the slightest. As for you music..." He pulled his head back and looked up at the vacant ceiling. "...in full honesty, I lost my true passion for music not so long ago."

"Did something bad happen?" Green Lilith all ready had a good impression she was right by her Boss/boyfriend's look.

He looked at her, "Yes, something rather bad did happen." He made sure to add quickly, "I-it wasn't catastrophic or anything on that higher scale. It was just that, at one important time for me, things just didn't go...according to plan. That's all."

"Tell you what..." Green Lilith felt so compassionate for her Boss/boyfriend and made room for him on her seat. "Why don't you come sit back down and tell me _all _about it?"

Freakshow perked up a bit and trotted back to his leather seat, while still making sure again not to accidentally step on any of the broken shards of mirror. Gently, he cushioned himself into the seat and huddled up to his mistress, resting his left most critically mutilated side of his face on her shoulder. "You see, a month before the _accident, _in the middle of October, I was booked for a live night performance at a classy club called _The Wash _in town. It was my very first...and last performance, especially since what it caused afterwards..." A tear forming in his eye, Freakshow stroked his girlfriend's stomach as he continued his painful tale...

* * *

_A pre-deformed Jojo walked slowly along the cold pavement of the sidewalk, his great weight slowing him down. It was a pitch-black night with no stars in the sky, a full moon and only the orange glow of the street lamps illuminated the chilly streets. Over his right shoulder he carried a black leather case containing an electric guitar, while in his left hand he was holding a cone of mint chocolate chip ice cream. He bought it from the nearby convenience store after his 'performance', if he could even have called it one._

_Needless to say, Jojo's electric guitar performance at The Wash didn't turn out as well as he had hoped. He didn't understand it; he had rehearsed the song 'The Morning After' both by guitar and vocally for two hours everyday for the last week now. What went wrong? Was it that all though his singing was great his skills with the guitar didn't follow up to the same standard? Maybe. Perhaps he didn't notice his mouth drying up and messing up the song? No, that couldn't have been, he took a nice tall glass of ice cold water before he went up on stage. Or maybe it was because his performance just wasn't the audience's cup of tea. Whatever the reason, Jojo McDodd knew he had screwed up at one his greatest hobbies when he heard the very faint applause of the audience and the obnoxious shout of one Who, "Boo! You suck eggs!"_

_Jojo had finished his ice cream and tossed it into a random garbage bin on the sidewalk. It took another five minutes before he reached the strip of pavement that led up to his house. He looked up to his house and saw that the lights had been turned off, meaning the girls were now asleep. Well, it was 10:30 PM, what would you expect? Jojo pulled himself up passed the pavement to the kitchen door, which Sally had said she would leave open for him when he got back. He had no idea what he was going to tell his parents, but he knew no matter how he explained it, his parents were going to be disappointed. Bracing himself and wiping away a tear on his eyelash, Jojo turned the handle of the outside kitchen door, opened it and walked inside, while quietly shutting it behind him._

_The kitchen was covered in darkness and only the moonlight slightly illuminated the room. Jojo could hear the drip-drop of the water from the tap into the dish-filled sink, making the only noise in the kitchen besides his footsteps. The black leather case was heavy so he took it off of his right shoulder and dropped it onto the kitchen table a bit more loudly than he intended it to. _

_Jojo heard the quiet sound of footsteps approaching the kitchen, but he didn't care whom it was. He needed a drink. A nice tall ice-crackling glass of diet cola would do just the trick. But he was interrupted the moment he heard a familiar voice address him._

_"Jojo, son, is that you?" It was his father, Ned McDodd standing there in the kitchen doorway. When he saw it was indeed his son, Ned smiled slightly. "Oh, it is you. I thought for a moment you were a burglar."_

_"It's all right." was the shrugging Jojo's reply, finishing pouring his glass and not looking back at his father. Ned looked a bit concerned by the way his son said that line. Something in his voice sounded a bit downcast, like something bad had happened. _

_Ned watched his son guzzle down the tall glass of diet cola, toss it into the sink and walk over to the table where the leather case containing the electric guitar. The teenage Who picked it up in his hands and took it over to the side of the kitchen door. Breaking the awkward silence between the two, Ned cleared his throat and asked, "So...? How did it go? Did they like your performance, Jojo?"_

_Jojo mumbled to the black leather case which he carefully put down next to the kitchen door. He replied uneasily to his father, not looking back at him, "Well, they, uh...they said they __**might **__call me in to play i-if they ev-ever find an open space in their schedule." when he heard no response from his father, the young Who gave his best possible explanation shakily, "I dunno. I, I guess I focused too much on the singing that I messed up on the guitar."_

_"Oh..." Ned said in a way that Jojo didn't like at all in his state of stress._

_The son of the Mayor of Whoville wheeled around angrily and looked up at his father from across the kitchen. "'Oh'? What do you mean by 'oh', Dad?" The poor boy had a look of aggravation and strain pushed to his breaking point on his face._

_"Jojo, I didn't mean anything." Ned said, trying his best to reason with his son._

_"Yes you did!" Jojo snapped in the same angry tone as before. "It was the way you said 'Oh'. You know, like that!"_

_Ned looked away a bit, looking agitated himself at his son's rash behaviour. "Hey, I only said one word, I..."  
_

_But Jojo was so angry and distraught, he did not bother to let his father finish as he stomped up to him. "But dad, you said the word 'oh'. You know, as in "Oh, so you messed up at your performance, Jojo?!" Something along those lines!" His thin, long and lanky hands just flapped around agitatedly as he remonstrated. "Or even as in "Oh, well so much for you having any future with your music!" You know that kind of 'oh'!"_

_"Jeez, what's your problem?!" Ned snapped back crossly, pointing at Jojo in between the eyes with his index finger attached to his considerably long arm. "I haven't once tried to make you feel bad about whatever happened at your performance, and you know what? All you've done is jump down my throat!"_

_"I understand that and I apologize if I have!" Jojo spun around on his heels and walked off a few feet away from his father. "But I couldn't help having what I would have to call one of the worst nights of my life!" _

_"What the clover do you mean 'one of the worst nights of your life'?!" Ned threw his arms up into the air incredulously. "It was __**just **__a musical performance! You act like someone dear and close to you just died!"_

_Jojo shot back at Ned, upset. "It's not __**just **__a musical performance to __**me**__, Dad! It means a Hell of a lot more to me than you think!" At the very moment, the teenage Who just felt like collapsing to floor dead. His father had no idea of the significance of the performance's importance to him._

_"But __**why?!"**_

_How could the boy possibly explain this to his father? He squinched shut his eyes and gritted his teeth in impotent self-loathing and futile anger. "You, you really think it's not that big of a deal, don't you?! Like it's all a big joke!" Jojo made sure to keep his back to Ned and he bunched up his fists. The anger was obviously directed at himself rather than his own father. "Dear sweet lord, music is one of the only things I have left! I'm overweight, I've got no friends and just you wait, Vicky's not going to be staying with me for much longer! If I lose music, than all I have is inventing, and that's not doing so well either!" Jojo looked back Ned and to the latter's shock, a waterfall of tears poured down his eyes and his lips trembled. "I-I-I have to up there and barely anyone applauds. And you, you think, you think...this is all just nothing!" At last, the angst-filled teenager sunk to his knees and cried uncontrollably, covering his face with his long thin hands._

_Ned looked down at his depressed bawling son, the crossness had disappeared from his face to be replaced by pained concern. He said nothing as he got down on his knees closer to Jojo's level and embraced his son in a tight comforting hug._

_"I'm sorry, Dad! Oh, God, I'm so sorry!" Jojo wailed, crying hard into his father's chest. His hair was a total mess, even more untidy than it usually was. _

_Ned hushed into his son's ear and whispered, "No, no, no. It's all right." He wiped away a lot of tears on Jojo's face and pushed the damp strands of black hair out of his face. "Now come on, wipe away those tears...there, that's better."_

_Still teary-eyed, Jojo looked up at his father and whimpered, "Why can't I just keep the one thing that really makes me happy, Dad? It's not fair!"  
_

_"I know. It isn't fair." Ned rubbed Jojo's back up and down smoothly. "I've just never been able to understand how much music really meant to you."_

_Unknown only to Jojo at the moment, Sally had been listening to the whole thing from behind the doorway. She walked into the kitchen and looked down at her husband and son cuddled up on the smooth floor. Only Ned looked up and saw her standing behind them. There were traces of tears in his eyes as well as Jojo's. Sally kneeled down behind Jojo and kissed him gently on the crown of his head._

_"Oh, my poor baby." Sally crooned, resting the back of Jojo's head into her chest maternally._

_Both Ned and Sally picked their first born son up in their arms. "Come on, you're tired. Let's get you to bed, son." Ned told him softly._

_"Okay." Jojo let himself be carried away out of the kitchen, into the hallway and up the stairs to his room. He didn't bother to restraint, the teenage Who was in such a great need of sleep. He noticed the straining looks on his parents' faces. "Sorry if I'm too heavy."_

_Sally shook her head, despite the fact that she actually was struggling with carrying her son up the stairs. Jojo definitely wasn't as thin as she remembered him to be as a young baby. "Don't you worry, honey. We're fine with this."_

_Jojo nodded slowly and muttered, "Okay. I just don't know what I'm gonna do now." With the utter flop of his musical performance at The Wash, to Jojo, his true passion of his love for music was dying like a once powerful flame._

_"You'll be fine, Jojo." Ned reassured with a smile as they reached the top of the stairs and made their way to Jojo's room. "I'm not about to let you give up your love for music just over a performance at some lousy club."_

_But the teenage Who merely shook his head dejectedly. "Whatever you say. But honestly dad, sometimes I feel like everything I try..."_

* * *

"...just blows up in my face." Freakshow finished the retelling of his painful memory, his voice breaking slightly. His eyes were at the brink of tears. The deformed Who's face was still caressed upon Green Lilith's shoulder.

Green Lilith felt so upset for her little Freaky. She brushed her Boss/boyfriend's multicoloured hair, cooing, "You poor thing. My poor little Freaky."

"It's not fair. It's just not fair." Freakshow pulled back and sat on the leather seat, facing opposite Lilith. "I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve to lose one of the one remaining things that made me happy."

"Come on, you haven't lost it at all." Lilith put her hand on the deformed Who to console him. "I bet you can still play your music great, right?"

Freakshow stood up from the chair and looked down at his blue yellow-nailed hands. "Wrong. A-after my dreadful performance at _The Wash, _my musical talents in music started to slip further and further. Don't get me wrong, my great appreciation for it is still as strong as ever, but I couldn't even play my guitar to a good standard to myself."

"I bet you can still sing."

The little psycho slowly raised his hands and put them around the front of his throat. "Not anymore, I can't. I gave that up shortly after my musical talents dropped. I don't wanna even about what I sound like now." He dropped his hands from his throat and lowered his head as far down as he could. "I might as well face it. I may have money and a strangle-hold over Whoville, but to me, I've got nothing of real value."

He felt something wrap around his shoulders. It was Green Lilith's long slender arms. She nuzzled her nose against Freakshow's neck, saying smoothly, "You've still got me now, right? I'm never going to let you go, Freaky baby. _Never!"_

Freakshow crossed his own arms and huffed, "That's not much."

"Then what about all your power?" Green Lilith was being pushed to her wit's end. "For God's sake, every criminal in Whoville looks up to you as their strong leader! And further more..."

But that last sentence fragment was what caught Freakshow's interest, making him switch his view back to her. "Wait, what was that last part?"

"I said every criminal in the city thinks of you as the number one Who." Lilith repeated to her Boss/boyfriend and then explained further. "They all trust you and are even counting on you to make this city one for them to flourish in."

"Really now?" Freakshow slipped out of his girlfriend's arms and began walking around the room in circles. He was thinking over what she had just said now so Green Lilith decided it best no to interrupt him. She didn't want to make him angry again or anything. The psycho must have been thinking about something related to his grand master plan. "I wonder...I wonder..." he mumbled quietly, rubbing his chin with his index finger.

_"...and in other news tonight, final preparations have been made for Friday night's Annual Science Gala, celebrating our city's greatest breakthroughs in the field of science this year."_

Freakshow looked to his right with a jolt and saw on the plasma television that the _Batwho _movie had ended a little while ago. Now, channel three was broadcasting the late night news. This time, instead of pulling out a gun and blowing up the television, Freakshow was actually interested in what the news tonight specifically included.

"A Gala...?" The psycho scrambled over to the television screen and watched the news in anticipation as it continued.

_The news reporter on screen, Kurt Kastabomb continued his report with the usual pearl-white tooth smile. "The highlights of the gala will be the guest appearance of the great Horton the elephant and his associates, who as reported, were shrunken down to our world not so long ago. Also, there will also be the grand unveiling of Whoville's so-called 'greatest invention of the year'. Attending the gala with Horton and associates will be the Mayor of Whoville, city council Chairman Vonfrood, the inventor of the mysterious grand invention Dr. Mary Lou Larue..."_

**"HA! **Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!" Freakshow let out a loud, sharp and abrupt cackle, pointing at the television screen as he did. The demented Who pulled his golden desert eagle out of his trouser pocket and aimed it at the screen. However, he somehow managed to restrain his vibrating hand from firing. He really had second thoughts regarding destroying one of the best televisions he could afford. So instead, Freakshow dropped the gun to the floor and laughed madly once again. "Huahahahahahahaha!"

All the while Freakshow watched the news and crackled like the maniac he was, Green Lilith just stood there in the background, watching and listening to her Boss/boyfriend display of lunacy. When his laughter started to die down, she spoke to him, "Um...is there something wrong, hon?"

The mad thoughts were running through Freakshow's mind so fast that he barely heard what his mistress had even said. He looked back at her with a look of hyperactivity as if he were a five-year-old all hyped up on candy. "You, you hear that, hon? A gala! They're _all _going to be there! Horton, Dad, the Chairman, Dr. Larue, the whole caboodle!" He then queried of her with a shaking pointed index finger. "An-and you said, and you said that all the criminals in Whoville, including the ones that aren't in the syndicate see me as a strong leader, correct? You mean they trust me, right? Right?"

Green Lilith answered him with an 'okay, this is weird' look. "...yeah, I said that."

"Okay, okay and it's all true?"

"Y-yes."

Freakshow threw his hands straight up into the air and cheered, "Oh, yes! Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! Dear God, thank you, Lilith!" He ran up to his mistress, grabbed her by the shoulders and lifted her up into the air. Laughing while he did, Freakshow flung Green Lilith around in the air for a few minutes before dropping her onto her feet.

"Freaky, honey, calm down!" Green Lilith yelped as she landed back down on her feet. She noticed that Freakshow was now sweating heavily at his forehead and hyperventilating. "You're getting all over-excited...again."

The derranged psycho turned her around 180 degrees and began pushing her off too the door and out of the room. "Ooookaaaay, sweetie pie! It's time for you to get going! Thanks again because you've more of a help than you know!" They had reached the door, which Freakshow then opened for Green Lilith.

"But I-!" Lilith didn't even get the chance to protest before her Boss/boyfriend quickly cut her off.

"You just go tell the executive board that there's gonna be a meeting in a couple of hours!" Freakshow said so quickly that Lilith only just managed to understand what he had said. "You know, around midnight...ish. Okay? Great. Thanks. You're a doll!"

"Bu-!"

_Slam! _Freakshow pushed his mistress right out the open door and slammed it loudly behind, leaving him now alone to himself.

Sniggering deviously, Freakshow ran back fast to his desk for what had to be the millionth time that night. He jumped back onto the chair and adjusted the desk lamp to face more accurately over him and new the blueprint which he spread out across the desk surface. The plan forming in his mind was boiling in his mind like a pan of water over the burning stove.

Freakshow grabbed the pencil on the far side of the desk and began drawing out his plan on the blueprint. He made sure to cover every single aspect and every little detail possible. Of course, the deformed Who had to make one or two erasions here and there, but other than that, the plan was becoming all most perfect! The gala, the mystery invention, the fact that he had every criminal in town, be they in or out of the syndicate or even in jail supported him. He would have never been able to come up with any of this if Green Lilith hadn't come into the room. Freakshow would have to make sure to thank her properly later. Perhaps a nice long hot game of 'Catwho' would suffice.

Dropping the smoking pencil from his aching fingers, Freakshow leaned back in the revolving chair and shook his right writing hand to get rid of his writer's cramp. After the psycho had finally shaken away the cramp in his hand, he looked over the just finished blueprint plan on the desk. The more Freakshow inspected the finished blueprint, the wider his insane grin grew. It had grown passed what was Whomanly possible, which he had done only once before.

"It...It's done! I-I-I've done it! My plan...my plan is ready!!" Freakshow launched up off of his seat with such abrupt force, it was tipped over on its back. "Oh, hooray! Happy days, happy days! I've finally finished it!" He took the sides of the blueprint and folded it into a scroll. "If there was only one word to describe it...it would have to be...ingenious!"

However, Freakshow's moment of self-pride was cut brief when several identical voices in unison remarked sarcastically from seemingly nowhere. _"Oh, Goody! And it only took me about six hours for me to concoct it, WITH my empty-headed mistress' unknowing help! Well done, egghead!"_

The mutilated Who slowly and darkly rotated his head and marched up to the large mess of mirror shards across the room. He could see the many reflections of his twisted face starring right back up at him. He held his index finger up and said with a forcibly calmed tone, "Please wait a moment." Freakshow walked back to desert eagle resting on the floor in front of the television. After picking the gun up, he made his way nonchalantly back to the large mess of mirror shards and aimed it at the largest piece. "...smile." was all Freakshow said before pulling down on the trigger.

_Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!  
_

With the largest shards that could reflect back at him blown into much smaller pieces, Freakshow tucked the bullet less but smoking desert eagle back into his pocket. Folding down his long sleeves, Freakshow stated to himself while creeping back to his leather seat. He pulled something out of his top vest pocket. It was a card with the back purple side facing his view. "I am in such great need of a drink..." He flipped it around to its opposite side. "...maybe a sake. It wouldn't hurt to try something different." On the opposite side was his now literal calling card. The 'wicked grin' now printed on the card smirked back at him maliciously.

* * *

**(A/N) And I will end it there! I must say, all though this wasn't my longest chapter, I think it was one of the most emotional. My favourite scene had to be, of course, the flashback scene. I believe I captured Jojo/Freakshow's emotions in and out of that scene perfectly. After all, music had to be one of the only things the poor kid had back at that stressful time. **

**Anyway, I think I should let you all know that the climax of the story is nearing. It won't be at the night of the gala where Freakshow's grand master plan begins, but as it continues afterwards. Trust me; this plan will satisfy both as an evil plot in general and Freakshow personally. But I should stop now before I start to ramble. Please Read and Review!**


	9. Chapter Eight: The Science Gala

**(A/N) All right, everyone, I am back with chapter eight. Now, this chapter is of the Whoville ****Annual Science Gala itself****, where we build-up to Freakshow eventual crash in. We don't really see much of Freakshow, this chapter, more of the other characters. Well, you have to admit he does get **_**a lot **_**of time in chapters; best give the others a good share. Anyway, read on and see for yourselves.**

* * *

**Chapter Eight**

**The Science Gala**

"Gah! Damn it, that hurt!" Dr. Larue was sitting at her desk in her very large classroom in Who U. It was Thursday 9:46 PM and the scientist had been practising for a practical lesson the next day. It included a Bunsen burner burning a doughnut to show how many calories it has. However, Larue had not been giving it her full attention due to the distracting television on the left hand corner of the room being switched on. The result: a stinging burn on her index finger.

Dropping the tongs that held the blackened doughnut onto the mat the Bunsen was on; Dr. Larue grabbed her wrist and continuously blew her sore finger. It was hurting liked Hell. Taking off her thick safety glasses and running to a nearby sink in the classroom, Larue began running her finger under the cold running tap. She muttered several curses under her breath and rubbed the finger in the icy water, which made her sigh in relief of the pain. "Ahh, that's better." She then turned the tap off dried her finger with a piece of tissue at the side.

The television, meanwhile, continued with its news broadcast, unknowing of Larue's little accident with the Bunsen. _"This just in: a dead body has just been found in the city centre! I repeat; police have just found Freakshow's latest victim here in Whoville at 9:47 PM." _

This was enough to make Larue step back from the sink and took a look at the television screen. She cringed at the live scene being shown on the news; a pale dead body tied up by metal chains was being lowered by the police to the street. A whole crowd of mortified Whos were huddled around the police barriers, shouting and screaming. The body itself was of a male Who in his mid thirties, his face as white as a sheet and a 'wicked smile' had been curved into his chest with a knife.

"Awful, simply awful." Dr. Larue took off her safety goggles, went back to her desk and sat back down on her seat. She turned the gas tap that had a tube attached from it to the Bunsen off and slowly packed the equipment away. The scientist felt too tired to continue any further with her experiment practise. "I'll just finish practise tomorrow before the class begins." Larue then licked her lips, she was pretty thirsty. "Oh, I need something to drink." She looked at the water cooler next to a file cabinet but had a different idea for a drink. "Hmmm..." Next, she edged her chair back, pulled open a drawer behind her desk and pulled two items out. It was a blue glass bottle with a ridged base and a small glass.

Drinking alcohol on the premises of Who U was strictly prohibited, especially among the faculty. If Larue were to be caught in the act, she could kiss her job at Who U goodbye. But you could not blame her; she had been going through quite a bit stress lately. Larue had two jobs, one at Who U and one at _Who Chem. Inc, both of which were stressful enough. Unfortunately, she too had unfortunately fallen victim to the media along with the politicians and police force._ Some Whos placed a fraction of the blame for the atrocities committed by Freakshow on her. But why blame her? It was because a lot of those in and out of the media thought Larue and the doctors that operated on Jojo McDodd had botched his surgery, resulting in his appearance and state of mind.

Dr. Larue poured herself a glass of gin and slowly put it to her lips. It full honesty, Dr. Larue and the other doctors and surgeons that had worked on Jojo's face did all they could to restore it to the fullest potential. After all, it wasn't as if the teenage Who had third-degree burns, his entire body had been exposed to highly corrosive blue chemicals. Some of the skin tissue and nerves had been damaged passed being capable of repair, but no, that was not good enough for the news reporters. They wanted someone to blame how bad things currently were in Whoville and Larue was among them.

Looking up at the television once again, Larue saw the photo of Freakshow from the transmission from weeks ago on screen as the news reporter continued. She frowned sadly and put down her glass of gin, while speaking as if to the picture of Freakshow. "Oh, you poor, poor child..." Believe it or not, Larue actually felt sympathy for this murderous homicidal maniac. It might sound crazy indeed, but the reason for this would probably be because of how long she had spent with him during his recuperation.

During the time Larue worked on Jojo's damaged face, she began to grow so emotionally attached to the young teenage Who. She treated and cared for him as if he were her own son, even when he was yelling and screaming in agonizing pain from the trickiest parts of the surgery. The scientist wanted a child of her own so badly, she had so much love to give, but she could not find the right man for her. All though, you might even say that Freakshow himself was in one way or another Larue's son. Not Jojo McDodd, he was definitely Ned and Sally's child, but Freakshow was in a way a son to her. She had fixed up the demented face that drove Jojo McDodd passed the point of insanity and turned him into the psychopathic murderer. So in some strange, twisted and bizarre way, Dr. Mary Lou Larue was the mother of Freakshow.

But do take this under your consideration; Jojo might have actually been her child if only a young Larue had had enough courage to ask a young Ned McDodd to go a date with her back in Whoville High. She could remember those days, be they good or bad as clear as a bell. The scientifically devoted Who had back then and even to some extent now a crush on Ned, dating all the way back to when they met in kindergarten as children. If only she could have been his girlfriend, they could have grown up, gotten married and had 97 children of their own, hopefully one oldest son just like Jojo. It was not like Larue had anything against Sally, she was actually her best friend since the 2nd Grade. It was just that the scientist couldn't help but feel a tad jealous towards her. Sally didn't exactly achieve the highest grades, nor was she the one whom would follow the rules, unlike Mary Lou Larue, but yet she still got Ned all for herself. But it would seem that good looks would all ways be there to trample over smarts. Oh well, that was life...

Suddenly, Larue was snapped out of her thoughts when she heard the sound of footsteps coming from outside her classroom. Panicking, she put the lid back on top of the bottle and shoved it back into the drawer with the glass. She only just closed the drawer in time when the door handle turned and the door itself opened. When Larue saw whom was there, she perked up a bit. "Oh, Sally, it's you. How might I be of help?"

Sally McDodd walked into the classroom. She was wearing a long black coat and judging by the fact it was partially wet, it must have been raining outside. After she had taken a quick look around the large room, Sally turned her attention back to the scientist. "Uh, sorry for the intrusion, Mary. Look, Ned sent me here for one last inspection of that new machine of yours before the gala tomorrow. If that's all right with you."

This surprised Larue a bit. She had all most completely forgotten about the Annual Science Gala that was going to take place tomorrow night. Her invention was going to be the crown jewel of the entire event. "Oh, of course, of course. Just follow me." Larue stood up from her seat and guided Sally over to the far end of the classroom.

When the two had reached the back of the classroom, Larue showed Sally exactly what she came to see. Placed right next to the classroom's back door was a large cylinder object covered under white tarp and on top of a metal table. This was obviously the machine Dr. Larue had created specifically for the gala the next night. "Okay...here it is." Larue introduced her invention with great pride.

When Larue pulled off the white tarp, Sally's eyes widened in marvel of the machine in front of her. "Wow..." Now this was one might fine looking machine. It was not as large and covered in buttons like some big super computer, but it looked impressive by its own standard. The shimmering gold platting and gracile design, it looked like it had been crafted by the greatest artists in the whole of Whoville. "Well, Mary, I don't think I'm smart enough to say much about the science behind this, but God..." she reached out her hand to touch the machine."...the craftsmanship looks magnificent."

"Ah, ah, ah!" Larue swatted Sally's hand, thus stopping her from touching the surface of the machine. "No touchy the machine!" She then pulled the white tarp back over the machine.

"Okay, okay, no touchy the machine." Sally backed off slightly, putting her hands up. "Sheesh never thought you as the one to be so overprotective of their work."

Larue shrugged and led her away from the tarp-covered machine, "Sorry, Sally. It's just that machine has to be one of my best pieces of my work yet." She clasped her hands together and smiled in anticipation, "I'm just so excited. Tomorrow night will be one of the highlights of my career."

"I'm sure it will..." Sally then frowned tiredly up at the television screen. "...provided my little Freakshow decides not to drop in during our party."

The scientist looked up at the scene of the corpse being put into the back of an ambulance on the television. "So I am to presume you really think he's going to attack?"

"Oh, how could he resist, Mary? All the big names in Whoville under one roof together; it's a ticking time-bomb ready to explode in millions of murders!"

But Larue was still unsure. "I dunno, Sally." She walked back to her desk, picked up the remote and pointed it at the television screen. "I'm sure the city council is aware of such a threat. They'll probably set up a perimeter of S.W.A.T teams all around city hall." _Click. _The television screen switched off.

Sally scoffed and asked doubtfully, "And you really think S.W.A.T teams are more than a match for my Freaky?"

The purple-haired Who looked back at her friend as she began placing all her binders and paperwork back into her lime green sack handbag. "Well, you gotta give them a chance. They've got better guns than normal police and have bullet and knife-proof body armour."

Ned's wife put on a thinking pose before she listed out, "Gee, and let's look at what Freaky's got: guns even better than the police and S.W.A.T teams combined, giant knives that are capable of piercing armour and devastating _bombs!!" _

"Quite the optimist, aren't we?" Larue asked sarcastically.

Sally merely shrugged, "Eh, guess I just liked to look at it from a realistic point of view."

As the two passed a long shelf containing various vials of chemicals, Larue picked up a chronicle flask and swirled around the red contents inside. "It would seem so. But just promise me that you'll try and put on a smile at the gala tomorrow."

"Done deal." Sally nodded with a huge forced mock smile. "Like this, you mean?"

"Yeah, yeah, very funny." Larue had all ways known her friend to be the joker in their friendship. "You're all ways the one to make fun, just like that time back in PE when you tied that punk kid Marilyn Tupper's shoelaces together and made her trip during laps."

The First Lady had to laugh at that. "Heh, heh. I remember that. Though I still wish I could get another chance to beat the snot out of that kid." She said the part about beating Marylin Tupper up with a hint of distain, while batting her fist into the other.

"Uh-huh, those were great times. Look at us, we're in our thirties and are still making wise-cracks. But..." Larue looked at Sally with a concerned look. "I couldn't help but notice how you don't really call _him _'Jojo' much anymore. I guess that wouldn't be another joke of yours, wouldn't it?"

"Aww, Mary..." Sally now spoke as if she had a head cold, while shaking her head slowly. "What part of Jojo is still left in him?" She walked back up in front of Larue, only the desk standing in between them. "I mean, he hasn't just stolen and vandalised, he's committed mass homicide. Now, when you really look hard at it, something like that isn't easy to forgive and forget. I just can't look at a picture of the kid and call him my little Jojo anymore." Sally then noticed Larue struggling to lift a large and thick yellow file into her sack handbag. "I'll help you out with that."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." With Sally's help, Larue managed to slip the seriously heavy large file neatly into the sack handbag. But during this something had slipped out from in between the hundreds of papers and onto the smooth desk surface.

"Oh, you dropped something there." But when Sally saw what it was on the desk, she couldn't help but narrow her eyes sternly. It was a playing card of some sort with the purple diamond patterned back facing upward. "What's this?" All ready knowing what it was, Sally snatched it up in her card and flipped it the opposite side before Larue could do anything to stop her. Freakshow's 'wicked grin'. "Well..." She gave Larue a look that made the latter put her hands in her lab coat pockets and look down at her feet. "Jee, what's the topic of your next lesson, Mary? 'Psychotic Villains 101'?" She held the 'wicked grin' card up to Larue in her hands.

Sweating nervously, Larue quickly swiped back the card from Sally's hands and tapped it back into her top pocket. "T-this?! Oh, this is just for uh...personal research."

"Personal research, huh?" Sally crossed her arms and arched her left brow. "Well, I didn't realise that you of all people would be so interested in a criminal psycho."

Pulling the sack handbag over her shoulder, Larue stated as she then walked to the classroom door with Sally following right behind her, "Come on, there's nothing wrong with keeping track on a former patient. If it's a crime to do so then I plead guilty."

After Larue had flipped the switch next to the door, turning the classroom lights off, she opened the door for Sally to walk out. Once the Mayor's wife had indeed walked outside the open door, the scientist walked out after her and locked them door behind them. As Larue did this, Sally told her to make her point, "Hey, all I'm saying is that it's pretty obvious there's a lot more than just Freaky's calling card in that file you had. Researching something can all ways turn into obsession, you know that?"

"Well, maybe the reason I'm doing this is because I still give a damn about him!" Larue said with more ire than she had intended. She then took the key out and began marching down the hall. Sally groaned and walked down the hall in tow with the scientist.

"Mary, I might be calling him by his new moniker, but that doesn't mean I don't give a damn about him." Sally said firmly, while catching up to her best friend. Larue was just being so stubborn as usual. "The kid's still my first-born son." She closed her eyes briefly and said with reluctance. "I know...how much you've grown attached to him."

"I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Sally." Larue sniffed, pointing her nose up in the air as the two reached the main double-door entrance/exit of the Who U building. "Yes, I operated on him, took care of him, but it's not like I had some sort of special relationship with the boy."

Sally just rolled her eyes and said as fact, "Puh-lease! You've all ways wanted to have Jojo as your child. Ever since the day we took him to you when he felt sick and you found out he had appendicitis." She then pulled on her own collar and cringed. "That was a turbulent time, trust me. I couldn't even open my eyes to watch when the surgery was taking place." But she realised she was now getting off-topic and continued, "Anyway, the point is that Jojo was a very gifted and talented boy, something you all ways wanted in a child of your own. It could be seen from Nool by the way you fawned other him."

"What do you mean by 'fawned over him'?!"

"I mean, I saw it for myself when you operated on his forehead." Sally retorted, now really getting ticked-off. "Don't you think I didn't see the way you tenderly stroked Jojo's hair with your fingers!" This remark silenced Mary Lou for a moment as the two stopped in front of the doors. She turned away from Sally, not wanting to look at her in the eyes. Feeling bad, Sally took in a deep breath and told her friend in sympathy, "Mary...I understand how you lonely you feel. Your father died when you were very young and your mother hardly gave you the attention you deserved back then. I know, you told me all about it when we were in the 8th Grade."

Larue peaked back at Sally from over her shoulder, "...and you never told anyone else?"

"Never." Sally shook her head and added in a reasoning way. "But you just have to come to terms with it...Jojo's _not _your son. You've come to love and appreciate him as one, but you know deep down he's still mine and Ned's. Nothing in the world can change that."

"You're right, Sally. Jojo will never be my son, no matter how much I wish he could be." Larue admitted, wrapping her arms around her sides. "However..." She said 'however' in a sharp and distinctive tone, catching Sally by surprise. "...while Jojo is yours, you could say that Freakshow is my child."

"What the heck are you talking about?"

Larue just shrugged in an all most clueless way before explaining. "After all, I and the other doctor's fixed up his face the way it is. All that trauma Jojo had endured drove him insane and turned him into the psycho he is today. I tried to comfort and help keep his mind in tact, but I guess it was all too much."

Sally looked at her dryly and commented. "You know, by the way you say it, you even make it sound like those chemicals are the father or something."

The scientist turned back to face Sally with a solemn look and ignoring her comment, she continued somewhat darkly, "The bottom line is I raised and nurtured Freakshow into this world, even if it was the chemicals that started it all."

The First Lady was actually was now becoming very creeped out by how odd her friend was acting. Sure, Mary Lou had all ways been odd in her own way, but this was something different. "Ooookay, whatever you say. Look, what are you trying to get at it here, Mary."

"Well, you see...I have this proposition I'd like to make." Dr. Larue pulled her sliding sack handbag back over her shoulder.

"Proposition? What do you mean?"

After toying a bit with her large purple hair, Larue got on with her point, "When Jojo or Freakshow, whatever you'd prefer to call him is hopefully captured by the authorities, what happens to him then?"

Sally was unsure of this herself. Everyone was talking about tracking down and arresting Freakshow, but barely anyone except for Larue had even considered what would happen to him when he was. "I-I'm not sure. I guess it's up to the courts to decide, but my best guess is that he'll be sent to an asylum for the criminally insane."

"Hmmm, that's interesting and in my opinion the best option." Larue was smirking, but not that much in a happy way. It was definitely more of a sly smirk. "But I have something else that the police and politicians could throw down onto the table."

With that, Dr. Larue gestured Sally to come closer and then began whispering something into her ear. "Uh-huh, uh-huh, wait, what?!" After Mary was halfway through with describing her proposition, Sally was surprised to say the least. This whole thing was far too big to ask of right away, considering it was about a derranged serial killer. "Are you serious, Mary?!" This was something Sally would have to take up with Ned in private, whom would then take up with the council. There was all ready plenty of Whos at the asylum that did what Larue was asking to do herself.

When she had finished, Larue smiled brightly, while asking Sally, "So what do you think?"

There were quite a few things Sally could have said about this entire idea. She could have said 'It's crazy!', 'It will never ever work!' or even 'Are you high?!' But Sally was a good friend to Larue, she could never say something along those lines. So instead, all Sally said was, "I'll see what I can do when I talk to Ned."

"Thanks." Larue opened the left side of the double door and the two walked outside. It was still drizzling outside so the two had better head off quickly back home. Tomorrow was a big day, at least from 7:30 PM at night. It would be a night neither of them would forget, just not in the way they had pictured it.

* * *

It was Friday 4:30 AM. In the bunker under 29 Zoombazi Avenue, goons were clearing everything out into the abandoned building above. Guns, knives, scraped blueprints, etc. All had to moved out of the bunker, except for the portrait of the deceased Devon and some of his choices artwork that the current Boss had no taste for. They were all smashed up and/or burnt down to ashes. The entire operation was one of the beginning phases of Freakshow's elaborated plan.

Claude looked over the progress from the abandoned building of which everything from within the bunker was being taken up and put into crates. He looked at what of the goons and asked, "You, there. Is the truck here yet?"

The faint sound of screeching tyres could be heard from outside, making the goon reply, "It is, now."

"All right, you lot! Get this stuff into the storage of the truck!" Claude shouted to all the goons in the room with him. "Hurry up! Vamoose!" Knowing that they would be facing not only Claude, but Freakshow's wrath if they didn't do as instructed, the goons began scurrying over to the many small crates. They worked in pairs to lift them up and move them out through the back door of the abandoned building to the large truck outside.

After most of the crates had been taken out, the doors of the elevator that led down to the bunker slid open. Claude looked and saw that Green Lilith and Dr. Marvin Caine were standing there in front of a third Who wearing a bowler hat. Caine was the first to walk forward, saying, "Everything has at last been moved out of the bunker. I think we are now ready to vacate the building." He then gave a the mould on the ceilings a disgusted look. "And none too soon. This place it putrid!"

"Then do make your way to the van outside next to the truck, Dr. Caine. We will be leaving immediately." The voice behind the psychiatrist and Lilith spoke curtly. The two made way for him to walk passed them. He took off his bowler hat and looked at Claude, Lilith and Caine. "But still, just in case, I have hidden one last bomb down in the bunker. And you might wanna get out right now because it goes off in..." Freakshow checked his golden wrist watch. He finished with a grin, "...ten minutes."

Giving each other a panicked look, Claude, Caine and Green Lilith ran out fast to the back door, pushing past each other to be first out. This left Freakshow alone chuckling to himself, until he saw remembered something and looked at his watch. "Wait, this watch is five minutes slow...oh, jeez!" Freakshow shoved the bowler hat back on his head and dashed as fast as he could out the back door.

Outside, all the crates had been placed in the truck with a lot of the goons having their ride inside with them. Dr. Caine, Green Lilith, Claude and the driver were in the jet-black van, waiting anxiously for Freakshow to arrive before the building went_ Ka-Blam! _They were somewhat relieved when they saw Freakshow running up to the van and clambering inside it. However, Freakshow had a complete opposite look on his face.

"Go, go, go, go, go!" The psycho yelled loudly, hitting the driver hard over the head. The driver slammed his foot on the acceleration pedal and the van jolted forward down the side of the building with the truck soon following behind them. After a few minutes, Freakshow opened the van window and looked outside to see the building no longer in the view. "Okay..." He looked back at his watch and stated, "...the place should be going up in three...two...one...now!"

**BLAM! BLAM!! KA-BLAM!!**

**"OH, YEAH!! **Boom, baby!" Freakshow howled like a wild dog, shaking his fist at the large plume of fire, smoke and debris in the air from far off. "Burn baby burn! Burn baby burn! Huahahahahaha!"

* * *

At last, the night had finally come; the Whoville Annual Science Gala that was taking place at City Hall. No one had paid any attention to the destruction of 29 Zoombazi Avenue, the media merely stated that a fire must have broken out, destroying the building in the progress. It was an abandoned building anyway, so no one really cared since nobody was living or inside it at the time. No, the Science Gala was the large overblown story shoved onto the front page.

All the biggest names in Whoville had been called upon for this spectacular event. Politicians, celebrities, scientists, normal citizens, the list went on from Mayor Ned McDodd to that Who in the bathtub. Sure, the gala was not the biggest celebration compared to the Christmas Celebrations, but with the scientific marvels on display, it was indeed an event to recognize. This was especially the case since that night's Science Gala would be the 100th to date and the highlights of the evening; Horton and co. and Dr. Larue's mystery invention!

Who's cars and long expensive limousines pulled up in front of the large steps of City Hall. Photographers, news reporters and other paparazzi were hustling and bustling behind the security guards, taking as many pictures and catching as many celebrities on camera as possible. However, unknown to many of the Whos arriving on scene for the gala, at least ten teams of S.W.A.T had secured a perimeter around City Hall. If a certain psychotic villain were to arrive they would be prepared. But that aside, this was a most joyous occasion.

The camera flashes increased tenfold when a limousine transporting the Mayor himself pulled up on the scene. The bumbling Mayor Ned McDodd stumbled out of the limo door and waved somewhat nervously in front of the crowd of paparazzi. He was dressed in a dark blue tuxedo and a red tie with black stripes. Ned was sweating on the forehead. He was never really all that good in front of large crowd, especially a one with flashing cameras.

"Ned, do you think you could move forward a bit? We would actually like to get out the car if that's all right with you." Sally, whom was still in the car, said to Ned in annoyance.

"Sorry." Ned inched over so Sally could step outside in her smooth and sleek short-sleeved teal dress. The Mayor felt hot under the collar just looking at her and whispered. "You know, you look very beautiful tonight, hon."

Sally smiled at him, despite the flashing camera lights going off all around them. "Aww, you big..." She reached out and pinched her husband's cheek gently. She would have given him a good kiss on the lips if it wasn't one little Who coming out from the limo behind them.

"Hey, excuse me! Future Mayor coming through here!" The shrill female voice blurted out loudly for Ned and Sally to hear. Harley McDodd jumped out of the limo and pushed passed her parents obnoxiously. The second born McDodd child was dressed in a thick and fuzzy purple button coat that matched her purple slender pigtails. Yet, still the stuck-up spoiled on Harley's face made the coat look just as repulsive.

The reason Harley had come here was because it was custom for the first born child of the Mayor to attend major events with his/her parents. Now, since Jojo McDodd/Freakshow was currently on the run from the law he obviously could not attend. So, the only other child that could attend if the first born could not was the second born. And by the looks of the current situation with Jojo/Freakshow, it would seem that Harley was going to be arriving on the scene of many social events.

Ned and Sally rolled their eyes in irritably. At least when Jojo came to galas and special occasions he would be modest and certainly less shouty. Ned leaned down and muttered to Harley from the edge of his mouth, _"Harley, when we agreed you could come, you promised you'd behave. I expect you to keep to it."_

Harley appeared offended by this. "Well, excuse me, but there's something I like to call 'social appearance'." On 'social appearance', Harley gave a wave to the crowd of photographers, who took even more pictures of the new future Mayor of Whoville. "Heh, they eat this up like candy."

"Yeah, yeah, come on, Miss Social Appearance!" Sally groaned as she put her hand behind Harley and forced her forward up the steps to City Hall's entrance and into the gala.

* * *

The Science Gala was being held within the circular centre of City Hall. It was a room made of clear white granite with golden statues positioned on the above ledges in front of colourful stain glass windows. In the middle of the circular decorative ceiling was a large golden ornate chandelier that all most single-handedly brightened up the whole room. Along the walls were the beginnings of many corridors for Whos that worked here to get where they needed to go. This was the best choice of place for the gala to be held in the building. Rows upon rows of white cloth tables had been set up neatly across the massive room. On top of them were hundreds of large platters of delectable foods and drink. A large blue banner was hung up at the far end of the room that read in bold purple writing _'WELCOME TO THE ANNUAL SCIENCE GALA' _and blue, silver and purple balloons were tied up on tables and golden statues. Stationed around the corners of the room were groups of musicians that were playing gentle harmonious music and setting a mood for the occasion. And finally, kept within thick bullet-proof glass cases were many of the scientific inventions of the year, all ranging from the fields of biology, chemistry and physics.

Crowded around the tables and spectacular inventions were the superfluously dressed guests. Very few journalists had gotten inside the gala and most of those had special V.I.P passes. Harley whistled in awe of the vibrantly decorated room, "Wow, I can't believe Jojo didn't enjoy these things."

"Maybe it was because he had subtle tastes." Ned said plainly, looking around the room in distaste of overblown decoration of the gala.

However, the second born child was not paying attention and saw just the Who she had been looking for from the start. "Oh, look, there's Gossip Gabby! If you don't mind, Mom and Dad I have a date with Whoville's number one magazine." And so, Harley smoothed her hips and ran off through the crowd to the journalist of her favourite magazine, leaving Ned and Sally alone.

"She gets it from _your _side of the family, you know." Sally told her husband flatly, while taking a glass of champagne from a nearby waiter. "No little snobs on _my _side." She took a nice long sip of the beverage and smiled, licking her own furry lips. "Now that's fresh champagne for you, Neddy."

"Just make sure you don't get _too _drunk this evening, all right?" Ned didn't like the way his wife was putting away the champagne down her gullet.

Sally had just finished her glass and looked at her husband crossly. "And what's _that _supposed to mean?"

"All I'm saying is that you should take it easy of the alcohol, just for this one time." Ned said defensively, while taking a glass of champagne off a passing waiter himself. "You remember what happened on our last honeymoon, don't you? I'm still wondering if the hotel staff have even managed to clear up that puke stain on the carpet."

The First Lady harrumphed and poked Ned hard in the chest with her index finger. "Now you listen here, Ned. This is only the second glass since the one I had coming in here. And frankly, I-_Hick!" _She put her hand over her neck at the sound of her hiccupping. When Ned looked at her smugly, indicating his point had been proved. "Oh, shut up!" She stormed off passed him, while intentionally thumping into his shoulder on the way. "If you need me, I'll be around women who are accepting of those that appreciate fine drink!"

Now left completely alone to himself, Ned just asked to himself, "What the heck did I do?" Shrugging it off, Ned made his way into the crowd of guests to find Chairman Vonfrood, whom had instructed the Mayor to talk with him the moment he arrived.

* * *

Meanwhile, somewhere else in the crowded gala, Horton and co. were the talk of the party. In fact, Vlad Vladikoff was right now chatting up with a few 17-18-year-old female Whos by a table of appetizers, telling his own version of the clover incident.

"And so, I, Vlad, heroically helped my good friend Horton defend the blessed clover from the wrath of the terrible Kangaroo and Wickersham monkeys." Vlad narrated before the small group of admiring late teenage girls. He was wearing a large mint green bow tie and black vest with wide enough room for his wings to spread outwards.

"Wow, Mr. Vladikoff. That sounds so brave of you!" One of the girls crooned, twirling a lock of her platinum blue hair.

Vlad shrugged as if it were all nothing, while still grinning cockily, "Ah, I was only doing my civic duty to protect you innocent Whos." But Vlad's moment of praise and glory was cut short when a certain voice piped up sternly.

"Oh, is that so, Vlad?" The black-bottom eagle turned his head quickly to see none other than Morton and Yummo standing there. Morton was resting upon the long handle of the silver ladle that was dipped into the glass punch bowl and Yummo was sat stout behind the table, while munching on a banana. The electric blue mouse wore a red bow tie and the big blue gorilla wore a red vest and a tie that was designed to look like a banana.

Morton continued as he still glared at Vlad, "Why don't you tell them about when you chased Horton and tried to shred it off him with your bare claws?"

"Or maybe you should tell them of when you threw the clover off of that cliff peak." Yummo added, while crossing his thick hairy arms.

When Vlad them turned back and saw the now cross looks of the once adoring teenage girls. They did not look pleased with hearing that the black-bottom eagle had been lying to them. He gulped and tugged nervously on his mint bow tie. "Well, I uh..."

"You know, I think we should leave you lot alone." Morton zipped up onto Yummo's shoulder as the two of them began to make their way off snickering.

One of the girls looked at the sweating Vlad and told him, while holding a glass of punch up, "You're a loser." She threw the punch in the black-bottom eagle's face and marched off with the other girls following her.

Letting the punch run off down his beak, Vlad simply stated, "I hate those two. I really, really do."

* * *

Back with Ned, he was still having trouble finding Vonfrood when he ran into Kangaroo and Rudy. He looked at them asked, while out of breath from running around the room. "Hey, Kangaroos, uh, have you seen the Chairman anywhere?"

"Oh, you mean big green and ugly?" Kangaroo took a cup of punch and took a drink from it.

Ned nodded anxiously, still turning his view everywhere possible in hopes of sight of the green Who. "Yep, that's him, all right."

Rudy pointed in another direction, saying, "Over there by the third doorway to the right."

"Thanks, Rudy. I appreciate it." And so Ned ran off in the same direction Rudy had pointed to find the Chairman, leaving the two kangaroos by themselves. The young Joey looked up at his mother with a confused look, "Jeez, he sure looks like he's in trouble."

"He's the Mayor, Rudy." Kangaroo shrugged, putting her cup back down. "No one said the position of a leader would be easy. I should know."

"But mom, no one's ever made you a leader of Nool, you just boss everyone around." Rudy reminded his mother with a groan and rubbing the back of his neck.

Kangaroo leaned down to Rudy's level and warned him darkly. "Watch it, Rudy, or you're gonna spend the rest of this gala in your room!" She tugged on her own pouch on 'room', reminding the Joey how it actually used to be his room.

While the two kangaroos bickered back and forth, Ned, after accidentally bumping into a few Whos along the way had finally reached the Who he was looking for: Chairman Victor Vonfrood. Standing by him were the other members of the city council and Dr. Larue, that latter of which was wearing a silk short-sleeved purple dress. He slowed down and stopped right in front of the small group, even more out of breath than before. "Sorry I took so long, everyone.

"There you are!" Vonfrood frowned upon seeing the Mayor and looked at his pocket watch. "For Lord's sake, you really like to take your time, don't you?"

"Victor, I told you I'm sorry. I just had some trouble finding you in this crowded place." Ned apologized, straightening out his own tie and standing upright. "Now, you said you needed to talk to me when I arrived here. Well, here I am."

"Listen, we are soon going to unveil this mystery invention of Dr. Larue's." Vonfrood told the Mayor, pointing to the scientist as he did. "So when machine is pulled out into the hall, we need you right there to help present it to the crowd." He then rubbed his temples and added with an irritant groan. "You do not necessarily need to say anything, just try for once not to do something that will make you look like a boob."

"All, right. I'll try not to act like a 'boob' as you call it." Ned was really tired of Vonfrood criticising him at every point possible, but he knew he might has well endured. At least that was he could get through it without causing any more problems for him. "But I just need to know something, myself."

The chairman frowned irritably at Ned and asked, "And what's that?"

Ned paused to think about how to say this, but then leaned forward said to the Chairman quietly so that no one else would hear, _"What do we do if we get a little visit from...?" _The Mayor tugged back his own left cheek, showing more of his teeth.

Vonfrood obviously knew whom Ned was referring to by that gesture. He whispered back to Mayor sharply, while still watching to see if anyone was eavesdropping. _"Now listen, S.W.A.T teams have been set up everywhere possible around the perimeter of City Hall. If that boy of yours even tries to march his way into this gala, he will be greeted by a barricade of bullets! Understood?"_

The Mayor gulped at the thought of that, but still nodded, "S-sure. Right."

The green Who nodded and pulled his lapels forward. "Good, now if you don't mind, I must be off to greet the dignitaries." Vonfrood then walked off into the crowd to meet up with all other Whos in high rank with the rest of the council.

Now Ned was left alone with Dr. Larue and he couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked in that purple dress. "Oh, Mary, hi. Uh, I'm really looking forward to seeing that new invention of yours." He said, shaking her hand.

"Why thank you, Mr. Mayor." Larue smiled at him in appreciation. "I promise that you won't be disappointed." She looked at him questionably and muttered to him, covering one side of her mouth. "Say, uh, did Sally, you know...?"

"Oh, right! She told me when she got home." He scratched his furry chin uneasily. The truth was that Ned was very nervous about even bringing this up to council. "Mary...I know you want to be of help, but It's not going to be easy to ask the council this. Not to mention that there are all ready plenty of workers at the asylum to that kind of job."

Larue grasped the Mayor by the shoulders and looked at right in the eye with a pleading expression. "I know that, but I'm one of the only people who knows Jojo in his current enough. Believe me, he told me things that only those in your family would know." Finally, she put on the 'puppy dog eyes' to gain some support from the Mayor. "All I'm asking for is just a couple of hours a day with him in his cell. Besides, I'm thinking quitting that second job at _Who Chem. Inc _anyway. Too many bad memories."

Ned knew there was no way he could just say 'no' to her, so instead he decided to give Larue a neutral answer. "Well...okay, I will talk to the council about it. And who knows, they might agree...but then again they might not. B-but I'm sure there's a good chance they will."

"That's great! Thanks." Larue pulled him in and gave him a kiss on the cheek, much to his surprise. The scientist then saw twos Whos standing nearby and called over to them. "Oh yeah, I nearly forgot. Hey, Jerome, Zoe. I need to talk to you for a minute."

Rubbing his tingling cheek, Ned thought to himself. _'Jerome and Zoe?' _He had heard the name 'Jerome' before, but from where?

The Whos that Larue had called over slipped past the crowd and stepped forward to meet her and the Mayor. The first was a male wearing a grey suit and an orange tie, while the second was a female and was wearing a simple baby blue short-sleeved dress. They were none other than Jerome and Zoe Eckhart, unknown to the Mayor.

Larue introduced the two siblings to Ned, "Mr. Mayor, this is Jerome and Zoe Eckhart."

On hearing 'Eckhart', Ned's eyes widened in realisation. Now he remembered where he had heard the name 'Jerome' before. The boy and his sister were both friends or associates to Jojo before the accident. "Jerome and Zoe Eckhart, pleased to meet you both. You're Jojo's friends, right?" He shook Jerome's hand, then Zoe's.

"Well, I hope we still are." Jerome looked down glumly after shaking the Mayor's hand. "After all that's happened." But deciding it best not to dive down into that subject, he continued with a more optimistic look on his face. "But anyway, I believe you know my father. He works here in accounting."

"What? Burt Eckhart, seriously?" Ned had never thought as mild-mannered Burt from accounting to be much of a family man. "I had no idea."

Zoe looked over her shoulder, only to see a sight that made her moan in embarrassment. "Uh oh. Dad's found the buffet table." she cringed. "...there goes all the brownies."

Ned slapped his forehead. "Aww, I didn't even get to try one of those."

"Um, I think I should go and...you know, control Dad before things get ugly. Nice meeting you Mr. Mayor!" Zoe spun on her heels and ran off quickly through the crowds to the buffet table. "Dad, wait! Other people wanna eat those pieces of shrimp too!"

Dr. Larue shook her head but still smiled. "She's a sweet kid."

"Yeah, I know. I haven't known anyone nicer than her." Jerome put his hands in his suit pockets and watched as his sister disappeared into the crowd before looking back at Ned. "Dr. Larue and I have been talking about me going into Who U to study the topic of chemistry. You know, for when I finish Whoville High."

"That's really good to hear. I've never been that good when it came to science myself." Ned shuddered as he remembered an accident that occurred in the science lab when he was in the 10th grade.

"Really now? That sounds a bit like Jojo." Jerome chuckled at the similarities between the Mayor and his son. "All though, he was pretty good at the subject, just didn't like it."

Larue, meanwhile, took a tall glass of red wine from a waiter next to her and grinned at Ned. "Don't be ridiculous, Mr. Mayor. You might have had your ups and downs in science, but I remember you quite well having achieved good marks in your final chemistry exam." She ran her finger across the edge of the wine glass, making it give off a very faint chime. "Then again...I might be thinking of the _romantic _type of chemistry." Larue gave Ned a quick wink before drinking down the whole glass of wine.

The Mayor started blushing at that and pulled on his collar. "Ooh...I, I...well..." Thankfully, Ned turned his head to see Horton standing nearby, talking to one of the eager scientist whom was asking questions about the Jungle of Nool, the world of which the elephant came from. "Hey, hey, Horton!"

"Huh?" Horton just noticed Ned was talking to him when the latter gestured him over to Dr. Larue and Jerome.

"Just the elephant I needed to see." Ned said so quickly that he sounded like a fast-forward video tape. "Dr. Larue here has been wondering...uhh, wondering what kind of creatures live in Nool with you and your friends."

Horton cocked his head, "Really?"

"Really?" Dr. Larue was just as confused.

Ned put his hand to his ear and faced another direction. "Hey, you know what? I think I hear Sally calling." He backed off into the crowd, making sure not bump into anyone on the way. "Nice talking with you and pleased to meet ya, Jerome!" He turned around and vanished into the large mass of Whos, now having left off his conversation with Larue and Jerome to Horton.

The real reason Ned was in such a rush to leave the group was not because Sally was calling him. It was because he was embarrassed when Larue brought up his love life back in Whoville High. Needles to say, it reminded the Mayor of his very first date with Sally, which was a night he wanted so badly to forget. To Sally it was a hilarious night but in a good way. However, to Ned it was a non-stop rollercoaster ride of humiliation.

All the while the Whos enjoyed themselves at the gala, none of them knew of the danger that was approaching...

* * *

A S.W.A.T team stood stationed right next to the opening of an alleyway short off from City Hall. They were dressed in thick blue bullet proof vests, dark-blue round helmets and were holding heavy machine guns. These Whos were specifically trained for some of the most deadliest jobs, way above what police were trained to do. They had been waiting outside in the chilling cold in total silence for an hour and a half now, ready to eliminate any opposing threat, such as the deformed Freakshow.

It would have seemed that it was going to be a quiet night, until a screeching noise echoed from deep within the alleyway. The S.W.A.T team turned and saw a black van was slowly moving down the alleyway in their direction, the bright headlights nearly blinding them.

Confused as to the van's presence here, the leader of the team gave one of the S.W.A.T officers a hand signal to check it out. The officer obliged and marched up to side of the van where the driver was sat and tapped on the window.

The window of the van slowly lowered and the S.W.A.T officer spoke authoritatively to the unseen driver. "I am sorry, sir, but this area is currently off limits to civilians. You are going to have to-!"

_Blam!_

The screaming S.W.A.T officer collapsed against the stone wall of the alleyway hysterically, blood gushing out of the side of his face from the gunshot. Shocked, the remaining officers of the team cocked their machine guns and run up to the van. They were either trying to aid their wounded fellow officer or take on the Whos in the van, whom had clearly defined themselves as a threat. Unfortunately, the S.W.A.T team stopped dead in their tracks when they saw the bonnet of the van fly open. A large metal cylinder emerge from out of where the engine was and it aimed at the stunned team.

_"A word of advice..." _A familiar teenage voice shouted from inside the van. _"If you play with fire, you're bound to get __**burned!"**_

A large roar of blue flames shot out of the large metal cylinder in the direction of the S.W.A.T team, illuminating the entire alleyway bright blue. The poor S.W.A.T officers did not even get the chance to move or speak before they were engulfed in the blinding blue fire. They began running around frantically as they vainly tried to put out the flames.

Inside the van, Freakshow watched the morbid display without a look of remorse. He leaned back in his seat and caressed the back of his head in his hands. The psycho chuckled and looked at Green Lilith sitting next to him, "You know, from here, they look like blue Christmas tree lights!"

"It makes me fell all tingly inside." Lilith giggled while purring up against her boyfriend's shoulder.

Freakshow shrugged and continued to watch the sight of the burning S.W.A.T officers through the front van window. It wasn't all that exciting to watch, after all, this wasn't the _first _'bonfire' he and his associates had witnessed that night.

* * *

Back at the Science Gala, everyone was completely unaware of what had occurred outside City Hall. A large platform with a maroon veil covering the tall object on top had been moved near the end of the room. Positioned around the veiled object were three computer screens that were set to switch on after the veil had been pulled off. This was the highlight of the evening; the grand unveiling of Dr. Larue's mystery invention! Mayor Ned McDodd, Chairman Vonfrood, the council members and Dr. Larue herself were standing on top of the platform in front of the veiled machine.

After tapping her microphone, Dr. Larue spoke before the large crowd of Whos and the six Noolians. _"Ladies and gentlemen, we thank you all for coming to this years Annual Science Gala!" _The crowd applauded and Larue continued, _"There have been many wonderful inventions shown before you tonight, but now we will show you the 'crown jewel' of the gala!" _Once again, the crowd applauded even louder.

Ned gave a wink to Sally, Harley, Horton and co, whom were standing at the nearest table of the platform. All though, he couldn't help but roll his eyes when he saw Sally eating a whole tray of chocolate pieces from her arm. Ned knew his wife well enough to know that after drinking a lot alcohol, she would take a moment to pig out on whatever food she could find.

A drum roll was then heard being played from the musicians at the corners of the rooms. _"This machine is a new breakthrough in Who science, a new wave of the future!" _Larue pointed to the tall veiled machine proudly. _"I promise you all; this is an invention that will stay at the top for at least 50 years!"_

"YEAH!!" the punk rocker Who with the blue Mohawk yelled loudly.

While still weirded out by the Who's abrupt outburst, Dr. Larue now reached the climax of the opening speech. _"Riiiiight. Anyway...without further ado...I present to you all...this year's greatest invention...__**THE NEURAL LARUENIZER 3000!!"  
**_

Two Whos stood up behind the veil and pulled it off the covered machine, making the crowd cheer and applaud so loudly you could not hear yourself think. Under the veil on top of a small stone column was Dr. Larue's grand invention; the Neural Laruenizer 3000. It was a gracile golden platted cylinder machine that stood only just taller than Jojo McDodd. At the bottom of the Laruenizer was a long black leather handle to carry the machine over your back and several sets of keys and buttons that operated the machine's functions. Finally, at the top of the Laruenizer was a large clear purple glass orb that showed its elaborate inner circuitry. It shimmered as brightly as a real star before the large awestruck crowd of Whos.

_"The Laruenizer is our biggest step in neural technology to date!" _Larue stated as the computer screens switched on to show green images of a Who's brain, data and basic brain waves. _"Now I am sure you are all thinking 'now what does this magnificent machine do?' Why, it will be the ultimate replacement for broadcasting signals!" _An image of the Laruenizer appeared on the computer screen, sending visible Wi-Fi signals out across Whoville. _"The Laruenizer is a transceiver capable of transmitting thoughts and 3-D images across a wireless connection to the nearest receiver, which will then be transferred straight into the user's brain." _On the computer a flow-chart appeared, showing literally what Dr. Larue was talking about for the crowd. _"If you want to watch a live sports event, then you can watch it with the Laruenizer receiver in 3-D as if you were right there. If you want to take a trip to the beach and don't want to waste fuel, the Laruenizer will make you feel like you're sitting on the sandy surface in front of the sea from the comfort of your home." _This examples were shown separately on two of the screens, while the third still showed technical data. _"This is the future! This is the Neural Laruenizer 3000!"  
_

Finally, the crowd of guests exploded in the loudest applause possible. You might even say they were loud enough to break the sound barrier between Whoville and Nool. After the cheers died down, Ned walked up to Dr. Larue and spoke to her with the microphone to make himself heard through the room. _"Well, Dr. Larue, I am usually a Who of few words, so I'll keep it simple: You have officially left your mark in Whoville History!"_

The Chairman nonchalantly stepped forward and added into the microphone, _"Yes, yes, may this new scientific marvel still be used for generations to come."_

For Dr. Larue, this was the greatest moment of her life and career. She had been waiting years and years for this night and now it was a reality. If Mary's father was still alive today, she knew he would be very proud of her. As for Mary's mother, the scientist couldn't wait to rub it in that old crank's face.

The gala was now in such full celebration that no one saw the door leading into the large room. Neither did they see whom walked into that room, that was until...

**BANG! BANG! BANG!**

Everyone in that room instantly fell silent. The crowded room that was only just seconds ago alive with cheering and merriment had now become as quiet as a ghost town. Not only that, but their looks of pure joy and glee had been replaced by that of sheer terror and fear. Now here was a good question that could make one think hard; what was it that made everyone so scared stiff that they did not make a noise or stir? Was it the three separate gunshots that overshadowed the applause, or the bowler hatted Who that was holding the gun and backed up by armed goons?

Freakshow blew the smoke off the firing end of his desert eagle and grinned maliciously at the horrified crowd, while revealing his repulsive jagged teeth. "Good evening, ladies and germs! The life of the party has arrived!"

* * *

**(A/N) Dun, Dun, Duuuuuuuuuun! Now this is what I call a cliff-hanger, eh folks? Now, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, feels good to use more of the secondary characters than just our mina character Freaky. I have to say, my favourite part had to be how much emotional depth I created for Larue. She has all ways been one of my favourite characters in the move, next to Jojo and Vlad that is. **

**Anyway, in the next chapter, Freakshow will attempt to make off with his prize the **_**Laruenizer**_**. But will the psycho succeed or will a certain black-bottom unearth his own heroic side and stop him? You'll have to wait and see, but let me tell you, what happens at the end of the next chapter is something you would not expect. Until then, Read and Review!**

**P.S: I think I should bring this up: the sister Harley McDodd is the one at the breakfast scene in the movie, who shouts "Hey, what does HE get more time?" after Ned leaves after Jojo. Just wanna clear it up for those who didn't know.**


	10. Chapter Nine: Party crashers

**(A/N) All right, everyone, I am back with chapter nine. Now, this chapter is where Freakshow crashes the gala and after a couple of bloodsheds, attempts to make off with the **_**Laruenizer**_**. However, there is one black-bottom eagle that will show his heroic side and tries to stop the villain. What will happen...well, heh, heh, the only way you're going to find out is by reading onward. You will be quite surprised.**

* * *

**Chapter Nine**

**Party crashers**

Now, in this world we live in, people can react in so many different ways when they are afraid. In some cases, a person might going into hysterics or just continue scream loudly. Some might just whimper as they cuddle up around near their loved ones for support. But when this factor of fear appears before the person so suddenly, then they might just freeze and stare wide-eyed in terror, all most as if in a trance. They would be too terrified even to scream or flinch. In fact, this was exactly the case in what was happening right now at the Science Gala...

Still grinning at the fearfully silent crowd, Freakshow removed the bowler hat from his head and handed it Green Lilith, whom of which was standing behind him to the left. After cracking his neck once right and left, the deformed psychotic Who strolled down the walkway which formed as the silent guests backed away the more he got closer to them. Freakshow was really here before them. The diabolical mastermind behind the robbery of the first bank of Whoville and the 'Great Whoville Express Crash'. He was here with armed goons at his side and they were now at his mercy.

Following close behind Freakshow was Claude, Dr. Caine, two random armed goons and Lilith. The deformed Who chuckled sinisterly, while toying with the desert eagle in his hand. "I'm terribly sorry for taking so long to arrive, folks. But I guess that's what you call being _fashionably late, _right? Ha, ha, ha, ha!" When he saw no one in the crowd laughing at his gag except himself, Freakshow frowned and asked dryly, "What the Hell is this? The crowd of the living dead?"

"I thought it was funny, Freaky." Green Lilith smiled in her trademark sweet but creepy way from behind Freakshow.

"Yeah, but _you _would find it funny, wouldn't you?" Freakshow rolled his eyes and gently swatted her on the cheek playfully. He then looked up at the platform to see a nervous Dr. Larue and a mortified Vonfrood still standing there in front of the microphone, but no Ned McDodd, his father. He could have sworn he had seen the Mayor standing there a moment ago, but that did not matter at the moment. After forcibly taking a glass of champagne from a quivering waiter, Freakshow chugged it down his gullet and saw a Who on his left sweating bullets. Getting a wicked idea, Freakshow wiped his mouth his sleeve and without warning, jumped around to face the Who, screaming, "**BOOGA BOOGA BOOGA!!"**

The Who screamed loudly in panic and he collapsed back unconscious into a female Who's arms. Freakshow threw back his head and laughed menacingly at this sight, while the Whos in front huddled together. This guy might have been younger and way shorter than them, but he was not to be taken as some joke or common thug.

"Gah, ha, ha, ha, ha!" After calming himself down, the blue-faced menace spoke again to the crowd. "Now look, there is no need to fear me everyone. I mean okay, that there was for my own sick twisted fun, but truthfully, I'm only here to enjoy this party like the rest of you. After all, I'm just as big a party animal like anyone else here...except I don't wear one of those fruity Hawaiian shirts."

_Click. Click._

Groaning irritably at the obvious sound of a gun cocking, Freakshow spun on his right heel to face the origin of the sound. He saw Commissioner Martyn and Lt. Knox standing there in their best tuxedos, aiming their police pistols angrily at his head. He snickered at the two officers and dropped the glass onto the floor, making it smash to pieces. "Ah, good evening Lieutenant..." After looking distantly at Knox, he cocked his head to Martyn and sneered. "...Commissioner."

"You give us one good reason why we shouldn't blow your goddamn head off!" Commissioner Martyn scowled at the small but very dangerous Who, while tightening his index finger on the pistol trigger. Neither he or Knox was afraid of shooting this maniac, especially after all the terrible crimes he had committed in the past month.

Freakshow put his hands up defensively, while still laughing as he did. "All rightey, all rightey." He dropped the desert eagle onto the smooth floor, but unknown to the two cops, he was holding something else in his other palm. "I'll cooperate." His devilish grin returned and he opened his palm to reveal a blue disk with a red button. "...psych!" He pressed the red button, making it flash repeatedly.

Whos began whimpering or muttering in fear of what was going to happen, while Martyn lowered his gun slightly. _"What did you...?"_

Within seconds...**CA-RASH!!** The stain glass windows high above on the wall exploded into millions of shards! The crowd screamed in terror and scattered into the corners, trying to avoid the falling sharp pieces of glass. Jets could be seen from outside the empty frames where the windows used to be. Ropes lowered through the frames to the floor and Who dressed in black clothes and different coloured masks slid down them.

When they had reached the floor, the masked goons took off the machine guns strapped to their backs and aimed them at the crowd. Screaming, the crowd of Whos that were just minutes ago cheering and applauding for the _Neural Laruenizer 3000_, unwillingly bunched together to get as far away from the armed goons as possible. There was no denying it now; everyone in that room that was not on Freakshow's payroll was a hostage!

Once all the armed goons had positioned themselves around the crowds of guests as planned, Freakshow picked up the desert eagle and looked smugly at the Commissioner and Lieutenant. The two were still holding their pistols in firing positions, yet the guns were lowered when the officers saw how much they were outnumbered by. "I recommend that you two...better drop those little toy BB guns of yours. Otherwise..." He snapped his fingers and the masked goons simultaneously cocked their guns. "...a lot of people are gonna get some hot lead in their noodles." Martyn hesitated for a moment, but he and soon Knox dropped their guns to the floor, making Freakshow grin in satisfaction. "Good, good, good, good."

"You're insane!" Knox remarked disgruntled at Freakshow as the two cops backed off into the crowd under the escort of two masked goons.

Freakshow actually had to force himself to laugh that time. "'I-insane'? Did you just say I'm 'insane'?" He giggled like a crazy circus clown, but his expression and attitude changed in a second to dark and serious. He marched up to Knox; hand signalled a goon to bring him down to the psycho's level and pulled something else out of his blazer pocket as put the desert eagle away. It was a large serrated knife. Grabbing him by his tie, Freakshow pulled the Lieutenant into his face and snarled seethingly, putting the tip of the knife to Knox's throat. _"You do not know the meaning of that word!"_ He would have slit the Lieutenant's throat, but remembering he had other matters to attend to, pulled it away and merely kicked Knox back.

"What the Hell do you want, kid?" Commissioner Martyn grunted as his arms were pulled behind his back by a few of the masked goons.

"'Want', Commissioner? I want several things..."Freakshow then actually began a list as he lazily tossed the knife up into the air again and again, incredibly catching it by the handle each time. "...a shining gold donkey, a diamond-encrusted ring, the...Chairman's head mounted to a wall..." When he said that last part, Freakshow pointed all the way other to Vonfrood, who gulped and covered his throat. "...and that...Laruenizer up there!" He then pointed up at the marvellous machine up on the small column behind Dr. Larue. "I think it would be an excellent addition to my collection." Before a chorus and whispers broke out, the psycho put his hand up to silence them, which they obliged to as if they were dogs and he was their master. "But first...I need a little talk with my Dad, the Mayor. You know a quick little reunion. Has anyone even seen him this evening?!"

It was then that the guests had noticed that their Mayor was no longer up on the stage with Larue and Vonfrood. They were obviously too frightened at the time to notice if anyone had left or entered the room, besides Freakshow. Ned McDodd had just disappeared all most the second Freakshow arrived on the scene.

Sally, whom was hidden aware in the crowd with Horton and co, looked around frantically for any sight of her husband. _"Oh, my God, where is he?" _She looked up at Horton, who just shrugged with an equally worried look as her. If things were not any stranger, Vlad had seemed to have disappeared also. Sally continued twisting and turning her head in searching for the Mayor. _"Where is that guy?! Oh no, oh no, oh no." _She knew that if Ned didn't appear to Freakshow soon, someone was clearly going to be killed.

Impatient to wait for his father himself, Freakshow stomped along a line of the now hostage Whos, brandishing his knife at each one of them. He grabbed the jaw of an orange haired teenage female Who, brought her down and whispered to her tenderly. "Say, you know where my Daddy is?" The girl's upper lip trembled and she shook her head. "No? Okay, you're useless." Freakshow tossed her back and moved onto a different hostage, one that made his eyes widen, _"...you!"_

Jerome Eckhart stood there as stiff as a board in front of the Who that most definitely wanted him dead. This was it. He was going to die. It didn't matter, he had a good life and...no, who am I kidding, he really wanted to live. Freakshow put one hand on Jerome's shoulder roughly, pulled him down and put the knife to one ear.

"How about I chop your ear off?" The homicidal Who then switched the position of the knife to Jerome's eye. "Or maybe I could make a pirate out of you. But then again, there is the most enjoyable third option..." Thirdly, he lowered the serrated knife all the way down to Jerome's crouch but didn't say anything regarding it. It was pretty much self-explanatory. "...then again, I won't." He pulled the knife away and turned away, not before stating, "I won't kill you...no, not yet. _Not yet." _Freakshow walked along to find a next hostage, while patting a timid Zoe on the head with his gloved hand. "Heya, Zo-zo."

The next hostage Freakshow came face to face with made him smirk. It was a very short and old green Who wearing a black blazer with golden buttons. He recognized him instantly as one of the members of the city council. "Ah, Mr. Rupert Kingsley, you wouldn't happen to know where my Father is, would you?"

At first, Kingsley didn't respond, but when Freakshow grabbed his shoulder and put the knife close between the councilmen's eyes, he began stuttering, "I...I...I have no idea where the Mayor has gone. I swear to God!"

"How about you swear to me, Kingsley!" The psycho growled and raised the handle of his knife so that its tip prodded into the top of Kingsley's nose. "All it will take it a thrust and twist and...oh forget it. You're too easy!" He pulled away his knife and walked off, making Kingsley sigh heavily in relief.

Freakshow looked up at the stage and a new idea popped into his mind. He walked up to the platform with Claude and gestured the latter to lift him up onto it. Claude obliged and rested Freakshow on the platform firmly on his feet, making him now face Dr. Larue and Vonfrood. "Now let's see..." He put his hands and the knife behind his back and passed a stunned Larue, quickly commenting. "No, not you, Mary. I don't think I would wanna hurt you." He then came face to face with his real victim: Chairman Victor Vonfrood, whom of which just stood his ground angrily. An armed goon stood behind Vonfrood, his machine gun put to the green Who's back. Freakshow pulled the serrated knife out from behind his back and batted the non-rigged side in the palm of his other hand. "Heh, heh, heh. Victor Vonfrood, Chairman of Whoville's city council, n'est-ce pas?"

"Yes." was Vonfrood's stiff reply.

"I thought so." Freakshow twisted his knife in the air and asked the Chairman. "You know, I'm pretty sure that you, the biggest stiff in this gala that works directly with my father should know where he is. Tell me, a secret escape pod or some teleportation machine? Come on."

But Vonfrood was not willing to spill anything to this homicidal maniac. "I may not like that boob of a Mayor, but not even I would hand him over to terrorists." He knew that this blue-faced menace was dangerous, but the green Who was not going to cower in fear like many of the other hostages. "I've seen a lot of twisted things in my time as Chairman, so I think it's safe to say I'm not afraid of _slime _like you!"

"Oooooo, someone's acting quite brave tonight, especially for a politician." Freakshow sniggered and narrowed his eyes at Vonfrood evilly. "Now believe me, I actually respect bravery, I really do. But you need to remember..." He put his fingers to his lips and whistled loudly. Claude jumped up on stage behind the Chairman and put a gun right next to the latter's head. "...there's being brave and then there's just being stupid!" He stepped forward and sneered at he green Who, "Did you really believe S.W.A.T teams were going to be able to stop me? I burnt every single one of those little nuisances to overdone pieces of bacon!"

"You wouldn't kill me. You've...you've got nothing to gain from it." Vonfrood made himself appear firm and unflinching, but it was obvious he was growing more afraid by the moment. Freakshow could sense it the Green Who's pattern of voice.

Freakshow nodded and turned his back on the Chairman, remarking, "Well, you're right there. I could have Claude blast your brains out..." Claude pressed the firing end of his gun harder against Vonfrood's head. "...but I never want someone killed unless it's necessary or more importantly, I _want _them dead." He gestured back at the green Who with his knife. "You...you're just not worth the effort. But still..." Freakshow then looked a Claude from the corner of his eye and ordered, "...Claude, if he steps one foot out of line, you know what to do." Claude nodded and kept the gun to Vonfrood's head, while grabbing him by the shoulder.

Now that the Chairman was taking care of, Freakshow spoke out down the gala room, addressing his non-present father. "All right, listen up, you snivelling little coward! I've threatened your fellow co-workers, but I guess that's just not gonna cut it. So I guess I'm gonna have to up the threat..." He jumped off the platform, not before winking to Dr. Larue. "Nice dress." The psycho shrugged back on his blazer, looked at a group of masked goons and hand signalled them to bring forward the three people he then pointed to. "Bring out the good old Mayor's most close ones here."

After a short moment, the crowd of hostages moved open and the three chosen people were forced out in front of Freakshow. Among this group of Ned McDodd's most close ones in the gala were Horton the elephant, Sally and Harley McDodd. Horton was doing his best to keep his cool and he was being pretty successful considering the large elephant had never been in this kind of danger before. Sally was biting her lip, trying hard not to show her fear, which was what Freakshow wanted. However, Harley had tears pouring out the edges of her eyes and was trembling all over. She was the only one of the three you could tell was afraid straight away.

"Now..." Freakshow pushed a few strands of hair that were in his face away with his serrated knife and marched past the three like a drill sergeant. "...which one of you would be enough to bring Mayor Neddy out if I threatened ya?" He marched up to Horton and grabbed him by the trunk. "How about you, Horton? The one who protected Whoville when you discovered us on the speck." He brought the knife as far up the elephant's trunk as possible. "Would the Mayor come to your rescue if I punctured one of the key things that makes you an elephant with a knife? Hmm, maybe but...you're not close enough. You're not a family member, are ya?" Horton just shook his head slowly, making the psychopath release the trunk and allowing the elephant to breath through it again. "That's right; I need someone even closer..."

Next, the deformed Who made his way over to Sally. Twos masked goon stood behind her, grabbed both her arms and pushed the First Lady down to his boss' level by the back of her neck. Freakshow grinned widely, grabbed his mother by the cheek and spoke to her in a sweet voice, "Now, how about my momma?" He nuzzled his nose against hers gently and raised the knife up above the back of Sally's head. "Daddy's playmate in bed. We can all tell that you both have serious fun there! Huah, ha, ha!" The homicidal Who was referring to his nearly one hundred siblings. "Now, if I took away his little 24 hour whooker, he'll be crushed, won't he? **Won't he?!" **Sally barely nodded a couple of times. "...that's right, but...I just can't kill you. No, not _you." _Freakshow wiped away a tear coming down his mother's grasped cheek and hushed her. "You've treated me fairly my whole life; I couldn't find it in my heart to do it." He pulled back the knife and released her cheek. "Besides, I need someone younger and more frail than you. Sorry." Before moving on, Freakshow pulled back his hand and fairly hardly slapped her across the face, leaving a faint sore mark.

Finally, after Sally had been pulled back, our psychotic antagonist moved onto the final of the three: his sister, Harley McDodd. She was nearly at the point of breaking down to the floor in tears, but luckily her legs only just managed to keep her up. "And here we have our final contestant; little Harley. How ya doin' Harl?" Freakshow reached up and tugged hard on her long slender purple pigtail, making her wince. He cocked his head at seeing his sister's tearful look. "Hey, hey...what's with the salt water eyes?" He raised his knife upwards to the point of her eyes, ever so delicately picking up the tears with it. "There...there...don't cry now. You look so scared. I wonder what it is..." Freakshow tapped his mutilated face with his other hand. "I-is it my face?" The blue-faced menace then held the knife at its tip to Harley's stomach and started fiddling with the buttons on her fuzzy coat. "Or is it this knife? Yes, that's right it's the knife." He twisted the knife around, careful not to really touch the stomach. Freaky did not want to hurt her, not yet anyway. "As I recall, you've all ways tended to be a bit Aichmophobic, am I right?"

"Ye...yes." Harley was shocked that she had found her voice herself.

"Of course..." Without warning, Freakshow hooked his left arm around Harley's neck and pulled out into the empty space in between the crowd. "We have a winner, folks!" To the hostages' horror, the derranged Who pulled back his sister's head and now had the knife so close to her neck that the slightest flick of his wrist would do the job. Freakshow whispered into Harley's ear sadistically, his tongue flickering wildly like a snake. _"You know...I bet the night I ran off with my new 'make-over' you were secretly jumping for joy. You know why? It's all because from that moment, you knew that you were going to become the next Mayor of Whoville. That finally, your life-long wish was going to become true. Well, what do you say I crush that little dream of yours once and for all. Oh!" _He said 'oh' very suddenly, making Harley all most jolt. The psycho continued his rant more loudly so that more of the hostages, not just those nearest could hear him. "But after I slit your throat, then the third oldest will become next in line for Mayor! If I kill her, then it's the fourth oldest. I could...I could keep killing everyone of you until all 96 of my sister's are dead, even little tiny Heidi. Now that's a Hell of a lot of work...but it'll be worth it when I finally crush the Mayoral line of my family." Throwing back his head, Freakshow screamed loudly in hopes his father could hear him where ether he was. **"ARE YOU LISTENING, YA SNIVELING LITTLE WORM?! AFTER I'M DONE WITH HARLEY, I'M GOING AFTER EVERY SINGLE LITTLE BRAT DAUGHTER YOU HAVE LEFT UNTIL THEY'RE ALL DEAD!! SO I SUGGEST YOU GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW AND-!!"**

"Let her go now, Jojo!"

Freakshow stopped in mid-sentence and spun around to origin of the sentence far off behind him. The Mayor Ned McDodd standing there with Vlad Vladikoff, the black-bottom eagle. Ned looked scuffed up and had a black eye, possibly from a conflict. Held in the vice-like grip of Vlad's wings was a nameless masked goon and in Ned's hand, pointed at said goon's head was a revolver gun! That must have been where he had gone; he was trying to turn the tide on Freakshow by holding one of the villain's own goons at gunpoint. Well, he must have had a little scuffle with the goon and with Vlad's help to get to this point, of course.

"Well, well, well." Freakshow released his arm from around Harley's neck and put it on his hip, but kept the serrated knife dangerously close to her throat. "Just the Who I wanted to see! I've had to threaten a Hell of a lot of people to finally get to you."

Ned glared at the small homicidal Who and spoke again, pointing the gun hard into the side of the nameless goon's head. "I told you to let her go, Jojo!"

"Or what, _pops?!"_

"Or I'll blow his goddamn head off!" Ned was awfully close to pulling the trigger and shooting the nameless goon.

The psycho just cackled mockingly and waved his hand, "Do you really think I'm going to let Harley go for some goon whom I can easily replace?" He reached his now free hand into his blazer pocket. "But I'll tell you what..." Freakshow pulled out his desert eagle and aimed it at the nameless guard himself. "...I'm gonna do the honours and settle the playing field myself!"

_Bang!_

Vlad jumped out of the away and covered his head with his wings, fearing that the bullet would strike him. But he removed his wings and saw that it was not him that been shot, but the goon right in the forehead, whom of which instantly fell down dead! Freakshow had just carelessly killed one of his own men!

"There we go." Freakshow blew the smoke off the desert eagle and kept it aimed at Ned and Vlad, while still keeping the knife to Harley's throat. "Who's got the upper-hand now, Neddy?"

Ned couldn't what he had just seen with his own two eyes. His son had just cold bloodedly taken the life of one of his own men without hesitation. "You...you're sick!"

"Sick, twisted, insane, I've heard them all, Dad. Now as far Harley...eh..." To everyone's surprise, Freakshow lowered the knife from Harley's neck and kicked her to one side into their mother, who caught her. Five masked goons surrounded Harley, Sally and Horton, forcing back into the crowd of hostages with their guns. "I don't think I'll be needed her right now."

"Why did you shoot that goon if you were gonna let the girl go anyway?!" Vlad squawked furiously. The black-bottom eagle may not have been a regular Neville Nice guy himself but even _he _would not have pulled off something so..._vicious._

Freakshow shrugged, pocketing his knife and now only armed by gun. "No reason. Just thought that way would be quicker is all." You would have to be an idiot to understand that he really _really _didn't care about the goon he killed. Now that he had finally reached his father, the deformed Who hand signalled for Vlad to be moved out of the way and walked up to the Mayor with the gun now aimed at the latter. "You know, I was surprised that it took so long for me to get you out here in the open. I threatened innocent Whos, your fellow politicians, one of your closest friends and even your wife. What shocked me the most was the fact that you only decided to act after I had your spoiled brat of a daughter at knifepoint." He threw his arms up in the air and let them drop back down to his sides. "I mean...what's the Hell is up with that?"

Ned shook his head. The boy obviously didn't see it. "You're right, Jojo. She is pretty much a little brat, but that doesn't mean I would let you threaten her. Oh, and another thing..." He leaned down to his son's level. "The reason I took so long was because I was too busy beating the snot out of that goon you just shot!"

The blue-faced had not really paying much attention to that. He was too busy swiping another glass of sparkling champagne that a goon took off a waiter. But he most certainly did pay attention at bit where Ned had called him 'Jojo'. Grinding his teeth for a second, Freakshow drank down half the alcoholic beverage and glared at Ned crossly. "You something, Dad..." He took another refreshing sip of his champagne. "...I'm getting really tired of that old name. You just can't accept that your precious little golden boy is dead, can you?" Ned didn't answer, so Freakshow continued, "But hey, you can all ways Freakshow your little boy." He wrapped his arm around Ned and slugged him on the arm. "What do ya say?"

_"Never."_ Ned replied darkly.

"Your choice...hey, can I ask you something?"

"What?"

Freakshow now slid the desert eagle down his blazer sleeve instead of his pocket and asked his question, "If this Who here was still the slightest bit Jojo McDodd...would he do...**this?!"**

**Pow! **The crowd gasped at the sight of their Mayor being punch right in the gut by his own son. "Agggh!" Ned grasped his stomach with his hands and fell to his knees in pain, dropping the revolver gun in the progress.

"Yeah, that hurt?" Freakshow stood over his aching father, while putting his hands behind his back and kicking the revolver across the room out of reach. "That hurt?"

"Yes! Yes, you freakin' psychopath!"

"Good!" The psycho pulled back his foot and rammed it hard into Ned's ribs, sending him onto his side. Okay, now that must have really hurt. Laughing sadistically, Freakshow jumped over to father and let the desert eagle slid back down his sleeve and into his hand. "Now I think we can both agree that Jojo would never do that, would he?" He glared at three masked goons in front of Ned and barked, "You three, pull him up!" The three goons did as they were ordered and pulled the Mayor back to his feet.

Ned was still aching all over but kept his eyes on the homicidal Who. _'Now what?' _The Mayor was not looking forward to what Freakshow had left install for him. After gesturing the masked goons off, the deformed Who cocked his gun but instead of aiming it at Ned, he actually put it in the latter's hand! "What are you...?"

Freakshow pointed the gun in the Mayor's hand at his own forehead and stated firmly, "Shoot me."

"You must be joking." Ned was going to lower the gun, but Freakshow kept it held in place on his own forehead.

"Do I even remotely look like I'm joking?" The blue-face menace's expression dead serious. There was no smirk or grin, just a fiendish scowl. He raised his index finger and told Ned, "You...you want order and happiness back in Whoville, am I right? Oh, of course I'm right. Well, the only way that is gonna happen is if either I'm locked away in a loony bin or am dead as a door nail." Freakshow licked his lips and strummed his fingers on the gun's firing end. "I actually think we should go with the quicker and easier option."

Ned only shook his head rejectingly at this. "No. No. No, I won't shoot you."

Tightening his grip on the desert eagle, Freakshow responded with a shout, "Don't be a darn fool, Ned! You could end the craziness in Whoville just by squeezing the trigger! It's that easy!" Seeing his father's positioned not changing in the slightest, he looked at the hostages in the crowd and groaned to them, "Can one of you pasty faces please talk some sense into this guy?"

With that, the crowd burst out shouting to their Mayor, trying to give him the best advice for what he should do. Their opinions were mixed. "Shoot him!" "Do it!" "Don't, it's want he wants!" "You'll be just as evil as him!" "It has to be done!" "It must be a trap!" Desperate, Ned looked over at Sally, whom just watched trembling with her face pale. She knew that the madness in Whoville had to be stopped but she would never want one of her own children to be killed. But Ned had to do something, he couldn't keep standing there with a gun pressed against his only son's head!

"What's it gonna be...?" Freakshow released his own grip from the desert eagle, now leaving it all up to his Dad. "Are you gonna shoot me or what?"

The Mayor felt his twitching index finger tighten on the trigger, making large beads of sweat form on his brow. He now had the chance to kill Whoville's biggest threat to public safety and be a hero, but at the cost of knowing that would have killed his own flesh and blood. "I...know I have to..." He breathed in loudly, then out slowly. "...but I can't. I-I won't."

"Just shoot me, you son of a bitch! Come on, shoot me..." Freakshow spoke through gritted teeth before his patience finally came to an end and he screamed insanely, **"SHOOT ME!!"**

Ned yelled loudly in frustration and pulled on the trigger, covering his eyes with his free hand. _**Blam! **_The sound of the gunshot echoed throughout the gala room, causing everyone in the crowd to either cover their eyes and maybe ears. They were expecting to hear the quiet thud of a small body collapsing to the floor, but after a few seconds, they all heard something louder. When they uncovered their eyes, the crowd was shocked to see Freakshow still standing up on his feet. Lying on the floor dead instead was one of the mindless masked goons right behind the psycho.

The desert eagle slipped out of Ned's hand, who lowered his head in shame. Grabbing the falling desert eagle in his hand, Freakshow sighed disappointedly and rubbed his temples. "You just couldn't do it, could you?" There was a distinct sound of disgust in his voice. "I gave the chance to end it all right here and now, but no. You're just too soft to carry out the act of true justice." **Thwack! **Freakshow kneeled Ned right in the groin, resulting in him to cringe and collapse back on the floor.

"Why you little maniac!" Ned covered his groin and rolled around on the floor's smooth surface. "You hear me! You're screwy in the head!"

Freakshow walked away from his father and to the platform, where the Laruenizer was still comfortably positioned on the same column. "Well, that was interesting. Okay, Dr. Caine!!" The evil psychiatrist ran up to his side as the two reached the end of the platform and Freakshow snapped his fingers. Caine lifted his Boss onto the platform and then pulled himself up afterwards. "Let's get down to business regarding that there machine...the Laruenizer."

Dr. Larue stood in between the two villains and her machine. "The only way you're taking off with this machine is by going through me first!"

"All right, nighty night!" Dr. Caine smirked, pulled out a double barrel gun from his lab coat and was going to shoot Larue if Freakshow had not grabbed him by the wrist.

"No!" Exclaimed Freakshow angrily, shoving Caine's gun downwards. "No...shooting her. No shooting." Turning back to Larue, he spoke to her in a far different tone, "Now come on, Mary. I just wanna take a quick look." He slipped past Larue with ease and began looking the Laruenizer over as if it were a fine piece of art.

Unknown to anyone else in the gala room, Commissioner Martyn, whom was hidden well in the crowd, slipped something down from his sleeve behind his back. It was a small black stick which when Martyn pressed the button, flashed a dim blue glow. Help was on the way...

Freakshow had just finished looking over the Laruenizer and the computer screens. Now that he was done, the psycho couldn't help by clap his hands a couple of times for the scientist who invented the machine. "Well done, Mary, well done. This here has to be your best invention ever. Messing with brainwaves and what not..." A confused look then spread across Freakshow's twisted face. "However...there are a couple of things that bug me."

Caine continued for his Boss after the latter gave him the 'go ahead' nod. "Such as the unlimited ability to put things into one's mind. You could attack somebody's mind by turning his senses against himself through some images that the victim finds extremely threatening, terrifying, disgusting or annoying." He lifted up his black lensed metal goggles so Larue could see his pale grey eyes. "This would most likely make a person panic and eventually faint though there is a possibility of permanent trauma or complete insanity. A kind of artificial nightmare while being awake if you will."

Before Larue could respond in disgust at such a horrific misuse of her invention, Freakshow added in his own misuse for the Laruenizer. "Oh, I got one! I got one! If you can use this machine to put things in the mind, then what stops you from taking things out of the mind, or at least make copies of them?"

"Mind reading, right?" Larue frowned down at the little Who next to her.

"Yes, that's it." Freakshow wrapped his arm around Dr. Larue's hip and rested his head on her side, making her feel uncomfortable. "Think about it: pin numbers, erotic fantasies and all the lies that people have told over the years to get to their current positions. Remember Mary, knowledge is power and hidden knowledge is _absolute _power."

Larue looked even more repulsed by these ideas of misuse for her greatest invention. "Are you mad?! The kind of people that would even dare consider using my machine for those kind of uses are bizarre, unethical...madmen!"

"Like me!" Freakshow let go of Larue and laughed to himself. "I won't be hard for me to figure it out. I've all ready got a guy who can figure out how to work the machine." He pointed at Caine, whom was placing the double barrel gun back in his lab coat. "If I am right, you two have met in the past."

It took Larue a moment, but she finally recognized the scientist Who standing before her by his grey eyes. She crossed her arms and scowled at him, "Marvin Caine. I should have recognized you by your foul stench the second you walked up the platform."

"Mary Lou Larue." Caine glared loathingly at the purple haired Who. "I haven't seen you since..."

"...you were finally fired from Who U. I drunk a whole bottle of wine that day came."

"You're wit has not become any less smug since then, Mary." Caine walked passed his former co-worker to his Boss and stood by his side. "Neither have any of your inventions. But you've all ways had a problem with limiting their oh so many uses."

Dr. Larue rebuked up tightly, "Maybe, but I can definitely say that you've all ways had problems with ethics." She pointed to the Laruenizer behind Caine and Freakshow. "My machine would most likely be the best example, considering the filth you just churned out of your mouth!"

Now Caine was starting to become angered by Larue's behaviour and warned her, reaching into his lab coat for his double barrel gun, "Now listen here you little...!"

"Caine, temper!" Freakshow reminded the psychiatrist strictly, putting arms around the Laruenizer and with some difficulty due to his small size, pulled it off of the column. "Now, I think I will be making off with my new toy." Carrying the Laruenizer over his shoulders and still holding the desert eagle in a threatening manner, Freakshow turned around to face Dr. Larue still standing in his way, arms folded and feet placed firmly on the platform. "Get out of my way, Mary."

"No." she said flatly.

"I said 'get out of my way!'"

Larue shook her head, "And I said 'no', Freaky!"

Grinding hard on his messed up teeth, Freakshow raised the desert eagle up at Larue's chest. "If that...is the way you want to play it...fine." He then told Larue with a surprisingly sad and reluctant look on his face, "I'm sorry, Mary. I, I didn't want it ever to come to this, but..." The scientist closed her eyes tightly and braced herself, knowing she was going to be iced on what was supposed to be the best night of her life. "Say hello to your Dad for me..."

A Russian voice screeched from out of nowhere, **"Hey, Freaky! Heads up!" **Freakshow looked up just in time to see the black-bottom eagle shooting like rocket out of the crowd of hostages. Vlad crashed into the blue-faced menace's abdomen, shocking the hostages, goons, Larue and Caine. The two tumbled and rolled on their backs across the platform, making Freakshow let the Laruenizer and his desert eagle skid across the surface.

"Get off of me, you idiot!" Freakshow screamed, trying to punch and kick Vlad away.

"Брось машину, сукин сын!" Vlad cursed right in the psycho's face.

Freakshow reached his hand into his blazer pocket, growling dangerously, "I have absolutely no idea what you just said..." he pulled out his serrated knife and held it over his head. "But I don't like the way you said it!" _Swipe! _He then slashed the knife across Vlad's wing. The latter just backed off in time for only a slight long cut to be left on his wing. Vlad howled it pain and fell on his back, allowing Freakshow to jump up and raise the knife, ready to plunge it in the black-bottom eagle's chest...

_Slam! _

The doors at the beginning of the gala room burst open, making hundreds of heads turn. Standing in the doorway were teams upon teams of S.W.A.T officers! They marched into the room, barring large heavy machine guns in their arms and aiming them at all armed Who not dressed in S.W.A.T uniforms! The leading S.W.A.T officer held up his machine gun and roared at the hostage holders, "Reach for Nool, ya dirt bags!!"

"Oh, for God's sake!" Freakshow yelled to all the masked goons in the gala room. "What are you all standing around for?! Get 'em, get 'em, get 'em!!"

Utter chaos now ensued in the Science Gala! Freakshow's masked goons and charged at each other, unleashing every bullet they had at their disposal! The screaming hostages, meanwhile, now had the chance to escape by running out through the many doorways on the wall sides behind them, while trying their best to dodge the bullets flying through the air. What was supposed to be the 100th, therefore most fantastic and glamorous Science Gala in Whoville history (or whostory) had now become a death-trap of bullets and knives!

Back with Ned, while the madness around him continued, he stood back up with his groin still in pain. Freakshow must have really hit him there hard. He stumbled through the scattering grounds in search of his wife and daughter. "Sally! Harley!" He called to them over the loud continuous gunfire and screams of the escaping hostages.

"Ned!" Sally pushed passed a couple of fleeing Whos and ran over to Ned. Harley was following right behind her. "Thank God!" She embraced and kissed him hard in relief he was all right.

"I'm just glad you're both, all right." Ned hugged both his wife and daughter back, but when a bullet sped right above his head, the Mayor told them hurriedly, "Both of you, hurry and get outside before you get shot!"

"But what about-?"

Ned answered his wife before she could finish. "I'll be fine! What matters is you two! Now go, go, go, go, go!" Neither the First Lady nor the young Mayor to be needed a second invite. They both ran off into the nearest doorway, avoiding any oncoming bullets as they did. Also fleeing through the doorways, Ned saw Yummo, the Kangaroos, Councilmen Rupert Kingsley, a lot of those the Mayor knew. This made Ned feel more relaxed knowing people he knew and/or cared about where getting out all right, but he still had to find Horton, Morton, Larue and Vlad.

Meanwhile, Freakshow was still standing on the platform, watching the chaos spreading throughout the gala. This wasn't exactly how he had picture in going down, but oh well, he best get what he came for. But before he went to pick up the Laruenizer and his desert eagle, the deformed Who looked down and saw Dr. Larue kneeling down beside a wounded Vlad Vladikoff, the latter Freakshow had slashed on the wing with his knife. Larue must have been really concerned for the one who had risked his life to save her. The sight was rather sweet, or 'sickeningly sweet' according to Freaky.

First looking at his slightly blood-stained serrated knife, Freakshow then looked down at the two on the platform surface. When they both saw him, Larue tightened her embrace around Vlad protectively. "Hmmm..." Freakshow could have finished Vlad right now, but he just couldn't be bothered, especially with Larue protecting him. "...you." He pointed at the wounded eagle shakily but darkly. "...we're gonna settle this another time." He left the two alone and ran over to his desert eagle and the Laruenizer.

"Need a little help, Freaky?" A familiar voice asked Freakshow after he had picked up his desert eagle. Green Lilith was standing there right next to him on the platform, shocking the living daylights out of him.

"Y-yeah, help me and Caine with this!" Freakshow and Lilith ran to the Laruenizer, which Caine humiliatingly was having a difficult time lifting. "God, that's embarrassing." The two helped Caine lift into his back, meaning all they needed now was to get Hell out of the room. "Okay, anyone got any bright ideas?!"

"All ready taken care of, hon." Lilith looked down at her wrist watch and within a few seconds, a large red motorbike screeched into the hall passed several escaping hostages, S.W.A.T officers and masked goons. It stopped right in front of the platform, ready for its driver to hop on.

Freakshow whistled, impressed. "Now that's new." He jumped down onto the seat first, meaning he was the one that was driving. He was then followed by Vicky and Caine respectively. "Everyone ready to go? Because I sure am." His narrowed his eyes fiendishly as he leaned his head forward, ready to tear up some pavement

"No." Caine gulped worriedly, not really comfortable with riding on a motorcycle.

The derranged homicidal Who ignored the psychiatrist completely and cackled, "That's great, let's go!" The motorbike let out a ferocious roar and it sped off down the gala room, knocking down both masked goons and S.W.A.T officers in the process. But before they reach the main door where they and the S.W.A.T had entered, Freakshow used the brakes to halt the bike.

"Uh, what are you doing, Freaky?" Lilith asked in concern as she saw the S.W.A.T officers closing behind them.

Freakshow did not answer her and instead stood up on the motorbike, turned back and aimed his gun at the platform, yelling, "Hey, Vonfrood!"

Chairman Victor Vonfrood had been hiding under the platform cowardly the whole time the chaos had been undergoing. Unfortunately, Vonfrood had chosen what would have to the worst moment to emerge from underneath and make his escape. Upon hearing his name being called out, the shocked Chairman turned around to face the direction of the main door, only to see Freakshow aiming a gun at him. The green Who was too stunned to even move.

The blue-faced menace narrowed his eyes and yelled, aiming the desert eagle as accurately as he could at Vonfrood. **"I'll see you in Hell!"**

_Bang!_

A final bullet shot through the air right at Vonfrood's head, making the Chairman turn his head just narrowly in time for the bullet gaze the side of his head. Groaning in agonizing pain, Vonfrood fell off the platform and collapsed on the hard floor, his arms outspread. As the S.W.A.T teams run off away from Freakshow to aid the wounded Chairman of the city council, the psycho himself laughed maniacally as he drove the motorbike out through the doors and to his escape.

Ned, who had just reunited with Morton and Horton, had witness the whole event. Running over to the critically wounded Chairman surrounded by S.W.A.T officers, Ned exclaimed, "Victor! Victor, are you all right?!"

"I've just been shot, you boob!" Chairman Vonfrood hollered angrily, while grasping his grazed head. "Do I look all right?!"

"We'll take him to paramedics, Mr. Mayor." One of the officers told Ned, pulling the Chairman up with a few others. "You just worry about getting outside alive!" He lifted Vonfrood onto his back and began taking him out through one of the doorways, while covered by the other armed S.W.A.T officers.

But Ned had no plans to get out of the gala just yet, especially when he, Horton and Morton saw two certain people they knew still on the platform. The Mayor climbed back on the platform and ran to Vlad, who was being helped up by Dr. Larue. "Vlad! Mary! Come on, we have to get going!"

Vlad shook his head, grabbed Ned's shirt with his claw and panted, still in pain, "Where...where is...where is Freakshow?!"

"He just shot Vonfrood to make his getaway!"

_"That rat..." _Vlad's chest heaved up and down, but when he saw the smashed glass stain window above, the black-bottom eagle slipped out of Larue's grip and prepared himself for take off. "That is it! I am going after him!"

"What?!" Morton slid down Horton's trunk and landed on the platform. He zipped up onto Vlad's leg, shouting incredulously, "Are you insane?! You've got a cut on you're wing! You're too wounded to fly!"

Vlad shook the electric blue mouse off his leg and began flapping his wings in strain. "I know, Morton. But we cannot let him get away! Not with that machine, we can't!" Before anyone could say anything objecting to stop the black-bottom eagle, he took off the platform and flew up and out of the window frame. He was gone.

Knowing full-well that they could no longer just stand there, the remaining four heroes were light on their feet and dashed towards their nearest doorway. The only people left in the gala room then were the remaining S.W.A.T officers and masked goons that still shot rapidly at each other. This party sure not had gone as planned...

* * *

Outside, Vlad flew across the side of City Hall and looked down to see the panicking former guests scurrying out through the main doors and all the S.W.A.T vehicles surrounding the entrance. The officers outside were trying their best to calm the Whos down and escort them to safe destination. But where was Freakshow?

Vlad rested himself on the building roof edge to catch his second wind. He scanned the area around City Hall and soon saw a bright red object speed past a road a few city blocks away. The black-bottom eagle grinned. He had found his guy. Clenching his teeth hard, Vlad thrusted off the building ledge and flew off over Whoville's streets in the direction of what he knew was Freakshow's motorbike.

Freakshow himself was driving the red motorbike with some difficulty. After all, he had only taken a few lessons with Caine with a prototype bike, so of course it wasn't going to be as easy in a situation like this. He intentionally knocked into a few cars on the way to leave marks on them, just for kicks.

"Hey, Lilith!" Freakshow yelled back to Green Lilith over the wind rushing through their faces. "I need you to relieve me of some tension!"

"Right away." His girlfriend cracked her fingers and began rubbing the psycho's neck.

"Ooh, that's much better."

But as Caine looked behind in annoyance at this, he saw something that made his face go pale. "Um, Freakshow..." he stammered, still looking back at the thing that made him gulp. "Sir, w-we have a bit of company..."

Freakshow looked into the side view mirror and scowled at what he saw following the motorbike. "Aww, Hell no..."

Vlad swooped passed the street lamps and telephone wires, keeping his eyes on his target. He was only a short distance behind the psycho's motorbike and the Laruenizer carried on Caine's back. It was strange; normally he was much faster than this and should be flying overhead Freakshow right now. This was most likely due to cut on his wing, being a great fracture in his flight patterns.

"S-stop...in the...the name of the law!" Vlad shouted to the three riding on the motorbike.

Seething at this black-bottom eagle's persistency, Freakshow pointed the desert eagle over his shoulder, forcing Lilith and Caine to duck their heads. Using the side view mirror to help aim, Freakshow slowly aimed the gun in the direction of Vlad and smirking, pulled the trigger. _Click. Click. _The deformed Who then remembered he had used his last bullet on Vonfrood so he could make his getaway. There was only one use he had for the desert eagle now in its current state. He tossed it up back over his head, hoping this would work.

The black-bottom eagle was now losing his second-wind, but he had to continue his pursuit, since he was now only a few feet away. "I said...stop in the name of..." _Thwack! _Freakshow's desert eagle flew right back hard in between Vlad's eyes. "Ow!" He stopped flying and dropped skidding on the cold wet road, landing on his stomach. When he came to a stop, he moaned, raising his head and looking up, "Oooh, right in the face!"

"See ya, sucker!" Freakshow cackled mockingly at their now taken care off problem. All he, Lilith and Caine had to do now was find the perfect place for the next phase of the plan. Looking up at the multiple streets and avenue beginnings ahead, he queried his two associates. "Okay, which way should I take?"

"I say we take Peacock Avenue."

Caine shook his head instantly at that idea, "Oh, no, no, no, no, no! That will take us too far away from the cops! And as I remember, that's not something we want." He pointed to one oncoming street. "Let's take 16th Street!"

"The place with the market?! No way!"

"It's swarming with cops! That's exactly what we're looking for!"

Green Lilith snapped, "Peacock Avenue!"

Caine snarled irritably, "16th street!"

"Peacock!"

"16th!"

Freakshow had had enough of their bickering like two little children. **"SHUT UP!" **This got the two to be quiet. "We're taking 98th Street and that's final!" He grumbled to himself as he made the turn into said street. _"God, I sound like a mother..."_

Soon, the motorbike with Freakshow, Lilith and Caine riding on top had found their way into the financial district of Whoville. There were no cars passing by and some of the all ready dim lights flickered on and off. After a minute of cruising through a wide open street, the motorbike came to a slow screeching stop in the centre of an orange light from a street lamp.

Looking down the fuel meter, the psycho saw that the motorbike was out of petrol. Getting into a furious fit, Freakshow jumped off the seat and paced back and forth. Green Lilith and Dr. Caine climbed off the motorbike as well, the first carefully setting the Laruenizer down next to it.

"Jeez, you'd think you would have filled the bike up with gas, Lilith!" Freakshow pointed at his girlfriend in annoyance.

"But I did fill it up! It must have been your driving!" Lilith crossed her arms and looked away with her nose in the air. "I mean, were you even paying attention to the way you made a left turn?"

"It was my first time driving this thing and-!" But Freakshow was cut off in mid-sentence when he heard a very loud scream coming from the night sky. "Hey, what the-?!" He spun around in one direction. It sounded a lot like a...bird.

Vlad Vladikoff, the black-bottom eagle flew up into the sky, his large menacing form silhouetted by the full moon. _"Now you're gonna get it, McDodd!!" _He flapped his wings and dove down to the ground in the direction of Freakshow, his sharp beak pointed forward. _"Get ready for the best!"_

"What's with this guy?!" Green Lilith that Vlad was still chasing after him after a cut on the wing and a knock on the head with a gun.

Caine began searching for his double barrel gun in his lab coat, asking Freakshow as he did, "You need my gun, sir? Or would you prefer to use your knife?"

The deformed Who waved his hand rejectingly, "No need, Dr. Caine." He then cracked his knuckles and walked forward away from Caine and Green Lilith. "I'll take care of this with my bare hands!"

Vlad was now getting dangerously close to fiend, his deadly claws outstretched and ready to do some serious damage. However, Freakshow was not scared at all. He muttered cockily, walking towards the approaching eagle and spread out his arms, now making him an open target. "All right, come on, you gruesome bird-brained bastard! Come to me! Claw my face off! C'mon!"

Our unlikely hero could have done it. He could have put an end to Freakshow's reign of terror right now. But...one thing kept biting him in the back of his head: the guilt. Vlad had never really been able to kill something that walked, talked and had its own personality. Back in Nool, he just fed off all the dead carcasses he could find, never anything moving. He tried to destroy the citizens of Whoville half a year ago, but that didn't really count, since Vlad didn't know Horton was telling the truth.

Then it finally hit Vlad like lightning. This was just like back in the gala with Ned: Freakshow was testing to see if his foe, be they the best or worst of people had the darkness within them to take a life. The psycho was more than glad to offer the black-bottom eagle the option to kill him at this moment, even if it was just to prove a point.

"C'mon, you beak-faced prat! Tear me limb from limb!" Freakshow's eyes and lips twitched crazily and he shook his head hard, sending his multicoloured into a mess. "Do it...kill me...now! Kill me! Kill me! **KILL ME!!"**

Fully pushed over the edge, Vlad cried in anguish, "Arrrrggghhhhh!" At the last second, the black-bottom swerved around the side of the Freakshow, giving the latter the opportunity to push out his arm. This caught Vlad by the neck, making the eagle gag and skid across the cold wet surface of the street. Vlad rolled across the tarmac and eventually slammed into the red motorbike, knocking him unconscious in the process. Caine and Lilith, after being mesmerized by the spectacle, both leaped out of the way so they weren't hit by the large carnivorous bird as well.

Turning around, Freakshow now took out the serrated knife and remarked in disgust, "You were supposed to kill me. I gave you a clear target and you just threw the opportunity away. Oh, well, there are still plenty of idiots out there that I can twist..." Gradually, the psychopathic fiend skipped leisurely towards his knocked out opponent, while chiming merrily in his own crazy way. "_Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah, zip-a-dee_-ay, _My, oh, my, what a wonderful day! _Huahahahahaha!"

"What do you want us to do with him?" Caine asked his Boss, rolling over Vlad's unconscious form onto its back.

"Can you get that Laruenizer working in reverse?" Freakshow walked back up to the two and unconscious bird.

"Yes, sir." Dr. Caine ran over to the Laruenizer and got straight to work.

Freakshow nodded and then asked of Green Lilith, "Hon, do you have those two mobile phones on you?"

Lilith took the two said mobile phones out of her utility belt and held them up to her boyfriend. "As all ways."

"Perfect." Freakshow rubbed his hands and took the two mobile phones off of Lilith, before giving her a peck on the cheek. He flipped both the covers up, switched the phones on and placed one of them down next to the side of Vlad's head. "How about we take a little peek at how dear old Vlad's mind works?"

Dr. Caine ran back up with the Laruenizer and carefully set it down next to Vlad. "All ready to go, sir." He pressed a button on the side of the machine, making the orb on top flash bright violet and nearly blinding the three villains. "Wow! That is mighty strong junk!" After being gestured by Freakshow to the phone by Vlad's head, the psychiatrist kneeled down and dialled in the numbers of the other phone in Freakshow's hand.

A bright narrow beam protruded down at the phone next to Vlad, causing some purple static between it and Vlad's head. Smirking that this was working, Freakshow heard the ring tone going off on the phone in his hand. Clicking the receive button, Freakshow put it to his ear and asked casually, "...hello?"

A second bright narrow beam protruded up at the phone Freakshow was holding, also causing purple static between Freaky and the phone. "Woah, woah, woah!" Freakshow's vision began to become blurred in static purple, thus replacing the street, Lilith and Caine.

The blue-faced menace could now see flashing images from Vlad's mind, some going to quick for him to fully comprehend. However, the voices he heard came clear...

* * *

_"M__ать__, help me!"_

_"There is nothing I can do for-Gah!"_

_"Why do you do this, O__тец__?!"_

_"Because...it is the only way you will learn, Vlad!"_

* * *

But just when Freakshow could continue further with his little exploration with Vlad's mind..._**POW!! **_Something hit the psycho hard on the back of the head, knocking the phone out of his hand and breaking the neural connection.

"Oww!" Freakshow rolled on his back, rubbing the back of his head in pain and dropping the serrated knife onto the tarmac. When he opened his eyes and raised his head, the deformed Who saw Green Lilith and Dr. Caine in handcuffs and kept at gunpoint by several S.W.A.T officers. "Wha-?!" A hand grabbed Freakshow by the back of his collar and pulled him up off the street. He looked up and saw Commissioner Martyn and Lieutenant Knox aiming their police pistols into his gut. "Ooooh..." He frowned dryly and folded his arms, while blowing a strand of his hair out of his face.

Commissioner Martyn, whom was the one holding Freakshow up, sneered at the homicidal Who darkly. "Oh, yeah. We've you now, ya little freakin' psychopath!"

* * *

**(A/N) And I will end it there! I bet you did not see that chapter ending coming, eh? Freakshow has been captured?! Is it really so, is it the end of his criminal career, or is there more to this than it first appears? Well, that you will find out soon enough...**

**Anyway, the way Freakshow twisted with people's minds and morals had to be my personal favourite part, but I do think I could have done more with the chase. All though, that's down to your judgement, really. **

**Bottom line, the next chapter will be one of the most emotionally deep as it includes one very...interesting interrogation. Read and Review!**

**P.S: Oh, by the way, I am going back to school on Wednesday, so therefore it will not take longer to update each chapter. I'm sure you all understand.**


	11. Chapter Ten: Interrogations

**(A/N) All right, everyone, I am back with chapter ten. Now, this chapter is one of the most emotionally deep as the now seemingly captured Freakshow and his goons are put under interrogation. Some very personal and even disturbing information is divulged for the heroes to take in, especially for Vlad. And most confusingly, has Freakshow really been defeated or is their still another trick up his sleeve? Well, I guess you will have to read on and see for yourselves.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

**Interrogations**

Vlad Vladikoff let out a low painful groan as he opened his sore eyes to meet a bright blinding light. His entire back was aching in severe pain and his large black wings felt like they were hanging onto him by a tether. Lifting up his head, the black-bottom eagle spoke with a croaked voice, "Where...where am I?" As he said this, he felt something covering the top of his beak, letting in fresh air for him to breathe in.

"Mr. Vladikoff?"

Vlad turned his head slightly to his right in direction of the source of the voice. A bright blue Who wearing a white doctor's coat was standing over the eagle, holding a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other. It was then that Vlad also got a better look of his surroundings. It was a large bright white room filled with metal beds that had mint green blankets on top, one with a green curtain drawn over it. On the ceiling were long rectangular lights that made the room even brighter than with just the white walls. At the far end of each side of the room were double doors and a few pieces of artwork were hung up to decorate the near bare walls.

After finishing his observation of the room, Vlad felt a surge of pain through his skull, making him drop his head, yelling, "Aggh! My felt feels like it is lodged in the crack in a boulder!"

"Now, now, it could be much worse, Mr. Vladikoff." The doctor explained, looking back at his clipboard. "If the police had not brought you to this hospital immediately after they found you, the chance of your survival would have been very slim." He then took the object covering the top of Vlad's beak off and put it to the side. It was actually an oxygen mask.

Recalling what had happened not long ago that night, Vlad grunted. "I have not taken that much damage..." But the eagle was proven wrong when his left wing painfully cramped. He refused to scream, but instead grinded his sharp teeth. "Oooh, it would seem that I have spoken too soon..."

The doctor inspected the damage over Vlad's busted body. There were stitches and thick bandages over the large cut on his cramping wing and over his head where the desert eagle struck him. Wrapped around his legs and body were many _many _wires, one connected to a monitor that was running at a rather steady pace. "Hmm, I must say you could have done with a bit more rest than just an hour. Just to think; any Who would be knocked out for hours on end."

"Yes, well we eagles are made of much stronger stuff!" Vlad told the doctor with a hint of self-pride in voice. "I, myself have been bitten by bats, sucker punched by the Wickersham monkeys and I once crashed beak-first into a large mountain. I can therefore most surely survive this!"

Now jotting a few things on his clipboard, the doctor said, "You certainly have quite a number of anecdotes to tell, Mr. Vladikoff."

Vlad would have continued with more of his 'life stories', but he heard a loud yelling coming from over the bed that had a curtain pulled across it. _"Gah, watch where you are pointing that needle, you blithering boob!" _The eagle lifted his shaking claw and rested it on his forehead.

"If that is Vonfrood..."

"I'm afraid it is." was the doctor's reply, also feeling irritated by the clear inability to cooperate from the green Who from over the room. "The Chairman survived the incident at the gala with only a large graze on his head. He will pull through and live to order Whos around another day."

The black-bottom eagle cocked his head, "But McDodd...Horton...and all the others. Where are they?"

"The Mayor, his wife and daughter have all made it back home, safe and sound." The bright blue Who reassured Vlad, putting his hand up. "And so have Horton and the other visitors from Nool to their penthouse in Whoville. Oh and that reminds me..." He turned to nurse, who was standing nearby. "Nurse, please phone the Mayor and then Mr. Horton and tell them that Mr. Vladikoff has just awoken." The nurse nodded and walked out of the room.

While this happened, Vlad himself was racking his brain, searching for the memories of what happened before he was knocked unconscious. "Um...let's see...uh...oh, dear..."

"Is there something wrong, Mr. Vladikoff?"

"It's nothing. I am just finding it hard to remember what happened to me just before everything went dark." The black-bottom eagle scratched his smooth featherless head and closed his eyes. "All I can recall is flying through that...red...motor...bike? That's right, a red motorbike."

Putting his clipboard and pen down, the doctor took a glass jug of water and poured it into a Styrofoam cup. "That is possibly due to that nasty little crash-landing you had." He put the cup into one of Vlad's claws and gestured to the bandages wrapped around his head. "I was told by the authorities that you must have been knocked unconscious during your chase of Freakshow."

The second the doctor said that name, the eagle's eyes shot wide open and he thrusted himself up, making him spill half the water in his Styrofoam cup in the process. "Freak?! Freakshow?!" He drunk down the rest of the water in the cup to get rid of the dryness in his throat and continued. "Did you say 'Freakshow'?!"

"Y-yes. Why?"

Vlad tapped his skull with the tips of his sharp talons. "All right...what happened to him after I was knocked unconscious?" He asked slowly but in a serious tone.

"H-he was captured by the police at the very same time and place they found you."

"What...the cops...they, they've...?" The eagle was at a near complete loss of words. He could not believe what he was hearing from the doctor.

Nodding, the blue Who smiled and straightened the name tag on his white coat. "Yes, Mr. Vladikoff...we've finally got him."

Launching forward, Vlad reached out his sharp claws and grabbed the doctor by the white coat. "All right..." He pulled the Who downward to the bed so that the eagle could see eye to eye with him. "...then tell me..." Pressing his bald forehead against the furry blue forehead of the doctor, Vlad breathed heavily and darkly. _"Where is he...now...?"_

* * *

It was now 11:39 PM. The Whoville police station was completely surrounded on the outside by patrol cars, cops and photographers. Freakshow's capture an hour ago had spread like wildfire across a large forest, even before the psycho had been taken out the back of the police van that took him to the station. It was no surprise; something as big as that could never be covered up from the media. A good deal of Freakshow's men had also been rounded up by the cops and were being brought into custody with the head Who himself. Now what made the police feel confused was that Freakshow did not resist his arrest at all. He took it all very calmly, even making a wise-crack if he could be put in handcuffs. Dr. Caine also seemed rather steadied in his arrest, while Green Lilith on the other hand kicked and screamed all the way. "I want a lawyer! I want a doctor! ...and I want a sandwich!"

Running up the steps and pushing through the police station doors, Commissioner Martyn looked around the station sternly. The police were still shoving the violent Freakshow goons into the many all ready overcrowded cells, where they were to wait until a fair trial. Like it would do them any good. These crooks practically had themselves one-way tickets to Whoville prison or if lucky, the Insane Asylum. At least that way, the goons would be treated more like patients instead of criminals.

"Get in there, you!" Lt. Knox slammed the cell door in the face of a tall burly goon under Freakshow's payroll. He turned away to Commissioner Martyn, groaning, "Damn crooks. Some of them just don't when they're beaten."

But Commissioner Martyn was more concerned about something else rather than the captured criminals' unruly behaviour. He looked around the criminal-crammed cells and asked Knox, "Is this all of _his _goons? There's got to be like 30...40 thugs here."

Knox shook his head, took out a cigar, lit it and gave it a puff. "Nah, this is barely even close to _half _of them, according to the psycho."

"Uhh...it's actually a lot more like...not even close to a _quarter." _

The two cops turned and glared at the not so far off prison cell built into the wall. It was positioned in between two other cells that were separately occupied by the eerily silent Marvin Caine and the screaming and kicking Green Lilith. While the dangling light bulb in each Caine and Lilith's cells swung back and forth, flickering a dim light that illuminated the small square grey concrete rooms, the one is the middle cell did not. In fact, the cell in the middle of the row was shrouded in darkness, leaving only the body of the prisoner inside barely visible from the chest down. This prisoner was sitting down on the bench and had right his leg pulled up to the side on his left and his arms lifted up with his hands presumably behind his head in a relaxed fashion.

"No one asked you." Commissioner Martyn said to the prisoner in the darkened cell sternly.

The voice within the cell replied casually, "I know, I know...just making a point."

Flicking his hand in the prisoner's direction as if shooing off a fly, Commissioner Martyn walked back to his desk, sat down and rested his feet on its coffee stained, paperwork covered surface. Knox stood where he was and glared intensely at the fiend incarcerated within the police cell, remarking, "You know something? You're lucky that there's no death penalty in Whoville like back when your great great grandpa was Mayor. If there still were..." He then lifted up his grey and white chequered tie upwards and held his head limp, thus making the impression of himself being hung. "...I'd be more than happy to do the honours myself."

"Hey, at least you might actually have the guts to do it." The prisoner's bloodshot feral yellow eyes rolled in annoyance. "I mean, my Dad and Vladikoff, they let that little voice deep inside them get in the way of doing what's only right." He growled to himself and made the sound of slamming his fist into the palm of his other hand. "Believe me, I flicked that little cricket off my shoulder and squished him with my foot years ago!"

Knox just shrugged in somewhat of an agreement, "Eh, guess you can say that. Me? I just follow by one ruling: 'You gotta do what you gotta do'" He stomped up to the cell, grabbed the cold metal bars of the cell door and said to the prisoner threateningly, "And what I gotta do, in my opinion is tear out your lungs and hand them to as an early Christmas present."

The prisoner laughed loudly at that one. "Ha, ha, ha! Okay, that's a good one, Knox. That is most definitely a good one." He clapped a few times for the lieutenant. "I'm tellin' ya, you really should have considered being a stand-up comedian for your career."

"Oh, wit. How amusing!" Knox sarcastically huffed, tipping his fedora upward.

"Oh, sarcasm, how original." The prisoner replied in an equally sarcastic tone. He dropped his hands from behind his head and now rested them on his knees, grumbling only just loud enough for Knox to hear, "Is it me, or is it that the rest of my species has a _serious _problem concerning tasteful humour?"

"Your really think you've got a better sense of it?" Knox took the cigar out of his mouth and sneered at the criminal, making the filthy smoke blow out of his mouth as he did. "I listened to those cracks you made at the gala, and I'm telling you know; they all sucked!"

The brow on top of the yellow eyes arched. "Okay...how is this one, regarding you cops…?" He cleared his throat and told his little joke, "What do you call a pig with three eyes?" He paused for a few seconds before answering with a sharp burst of laughter, "Simple...a _**piiig! **_Oink, oink, oink! Ha, ha, ha, ha!"

"That's it!" If there was thing that Knox hated more than scum like Freakshow, it was pig (as in police) jokes! Taking out his police pistol, the Lieutenant aimed it at the source of the voice through the cell bars. "Let's see if you laugh when I'm done with-!"

Commissioner Martyn yelled warningly to the Lieutenant from across the police station, "Arnold!"

Knox cringed angrily, his eyes closing tight and the fur on his neck standing on end. He pulled back his pistol, shoved it into his pocket and lurched off, while snarling at the prisoner, _"I will get you one day, shorty. __**One day." **_He flicked his still lit cigar behind him through the cell bars in the prisoner's direction.

The still lit cigar went flying through the cell, leaving a small trail of smoke behind. It would have landed on the filthy floor, but a sharp yellow nailed blue hand caught it in between the thumb and index finger. This hand belonged to the prisoner of course, who shoved the cigar into his mouth and began smoking it, the faintly glowing end illuminating his left torn off cheek. "And I'll be waiting for you, Knoxy..."

When Knox had left the prisoner to himself, the latter looked up at the small window to the side of his cell. He saw a moping Green Lilith resting her head on the thick bars and sighed, taking the cigar out of his mouth, "You don't look too happy."

Lilith drew back from the window and curled up by the wall underneath it. "I dunno...maybe I really just didn't picture myself in a prison cell at my young age."

But the prisoner in the opposite cell just chuckled, "Don't worry about it, angel. We won't be behind bars for long. Besides..." He leaned more towards the window above. "...didn't you once think that with this kind of work, you were bound to be caught at least once in while?"

Caine's voice joined in on the conversation from his cell at the far end. "Maybe...but then comes the trouble with getting back out. Hopefully, it should be easy...if this next 'phase' of yours works."

"It will, Marvin. It wi-"

_**Slam!**_

The middle cell prisoner did not get enough time to finish as the double door of the police station swung open and slammed hard against the walls. It was followed instantly by a furious roar with a Russian accent, **"WHERE IS HE?!"**

The middle cell prisoner closed his yellow feral eyes and whistled quietly. _'And here we go." _He thought to himself with a groan.

Vlad Vladikoff marched into the police station angrily, his head and wing still wrapped in bandages and with somewhat of a limp. When he had learnt of where Freakshow currently was, the eagle made a quick phone call to Ned McDodd. The doctor said that the Mayor was going to visit his maniac son that very night and against his medical advice, Vlad arranged to go to the station with Ned and Sally. The couple had to visit hospital anyway to check up on the progress of Chairman Vonfrood, who was now on his way to a speedy recovery. Truth was the Chairman had been shot at more than once in his time as Chairman of the city council, proving exactly how unpopular he was a politician. Concerning Vlad, the Mayor and his First Lady made it clear to him that he could only come provided he did not try and pull something off. That basically meant he was not allowed to try and snap the neck of a certain homicidal, no matter how much he wanted to.

Ned and Sally themselves dashed into the station right behind the black-bottom eagle, both out of breath after having to run to catch up with him. The Mayor was now wearing his usual blue vest while his wife was back in her usual orange and brown stripped getup. After the incident at the gala and the family went straight him, Harley was put to bed right away. The poor girl had been through a great ordeal that night and needed much rest. But just when the two had thought they would finally be able to get some sleep that night, the phone in the McDodd household rang. Upon answering it, they were shocked to be informed that Freakshow had been captured! Ned knew then that he could not sleep knowing that his son that caused so much chaos was now at the station, neither could Sally. Both of them had to go down there to talk with their little 'Freaky' themselves, leaving a note back home for the girls if any one of them woke up in the night. They were just not planning at first on having an angry eagle going with them who was still ready to crack a few heads.

Getting up from his desk, Commissioner Martyn walked up and greeted the Mayor and his wife. "I'm glad you could come here, Mr. and Mrs. Mayor. We do appreciate it."

Striding into the centre of the room with the same threatening look on his face, Vlad began looking around the many all ready crammed cells of the police station. "Well..." He glared dangerously at each of Freakshow's incarcerated goons. "...I only have one motive for being here; where is the big guy? Come on, where is little Freakshow?"

Knox whistled to the eagle, catching his attention and pointed to the darkened cell in between Dr. Caine and Green Lilith's. Vlad got the idea and made his way over to the said cell, followed not far behind by Commissioner Martyn, Lt. Knox, Ned and Sally. When they saw only the prisoner's yellow feral eyes and the orange glow of the cigar in his mouth, Commissioner Martyn pulled out a remote and clicked a button, while pointing it at the cell. The dangling light bulb flashed on, illuminating the whole cell brightly, including the one occupying it.

Freakshow took the cigar out of his mouth and grinned at those looking into his cell, while smoke blew out through the exposed teeth where his left cheek used to be. The little psycho was wearing the same attire in which he was caught in like all the other prisoners, all except his charcoal blazer, gloves and bowler hat. That had been taken off him by the police right before he was thrown in the cell. However, his multicoloured hair was now much more a mess than before and there seemed to be even more black circles under his yellow feral eyes. His black long sleeved shirt with red stripes and his green snake tie were creased and crinkled.

Pulling his hands onto his stomach, Freakshow chuckled sinisterly, "Good evening, mother...father..._Vlad."_

"Well, well, look at you..." Vlad rested his wings against the cell door bars and glared intensely at the blue-face menace. "The great Freakshow finally locked up like a common crook."

Freakshow pulled his leg up to the side on the other and yawned bored. "Do I even..._look _bothered?"

"You should..." the eagle growled at him. "Considering that your plan to take over Whoville before year's end has gone up in smoke." He smirked in big wise guy fashion. "If you still want to at least try and live up to that promise with only weeks left, I suggest you start drawing up escape plans."

Chuckling, the psycho sneered back at Vlad, "Oh, I'll be back on the streets in no time, don't worry. I strongly suggest we prepare for one _rocky _future"

"Future?! You have no future, _Freak! _You and that ugly mug are going to spend the rest of your prissy little life in the nut house!" Vlad yelled, spit firing from his beak as he pointed at the disfigurement that made up Freakshow's face.

"Ha! Well, you're right on that part, Vladdy! I've got my scars..." The deformed Who then ran a sharp yellow nailed finger smoothly down the longest jagged morbid green scar on his blue face. "But you know..." He gestured towards Vlad's beak, which had numerous noticeable marks on it. "...I bet people have questioned you about how you got those markings on your beak." He licked his own lips and looked up at the cell ceiling in wonder. "Could they be the result of an accident or at least something from your childhood? Or..." He leaned forward a bit. "...were they done by someone close to you? Maybe even...a family member...?"

Commissioner Martyn knew there was only one place this was going. "Uh, Vlad, I need some help with the evidence we obtained. Can you let me a hand?" The black-bottom eagle, who was at this moment boiling in anger slowly looked back at the Who. He nodded a bit and slowly followed Martyn across the station room, leaving only Ned, Sally and Knox in front of the cell.

"You sure know how to screw with people's minds." Ned glowered at the Who within the cell. "I bet it must make you feel like a 'big man', right?"

Freakshow clicked his tongue a couple of times and admitted, "If I don't have a gun or a knife, I can all ways use mind twisting." He giggled as he continued, "It's a very useful trick that can pull Whos down to even _my _level. You should consider using it every once in a while."

"Maybe I would, except there's one important thing..." The Mayor jabbed his thumb to himself. "I'm not a psycho."

The homicidal Who snickered at his father's comeback. "Heh, heh, heh. 'I'm not a psycho', that's a good one." He then shook his head calmly. "No, no, no. You don't have to be a psycho to mess with people's minds. I've seen all kinds of politicians and businessmen use it. Why, compared to malicious mind manipulation, a knife is useless. Ha, ha!"

Ned snorted cockily, crossing his arms. "Then I'm just glad that the _Laruenizer _is locked up so you can't get your grimy little claws on it."

"Guess you can't win them all, right?" With seeing Sally still standing there by the bars, Freakshow asked smugly of her, "Okay...let's hear it. What's yours?"

"I beg your pardon."

Freakshow frowned and shrugged, "You know, what's your little wise-crack? Your witty little insult?" He leaned back and tapped his index fingers together. "Come on, Momma. I'm just dying to hear one from you, come on."

Sally merely shook her head, "Normally, I would." She walked away from the cell bars with Ned and away from Freakshow, commenting. "But in this case, _you're_ just not worth the time and effort."

"Oooooh, way to sock it to me!" The derranged Who cackled, grabbing his sides kicking his leg upwards. Since Knox was the only one left standing there, he told the lieutenant as he held up the cigar. "Hey, Knox! A quick tip for ya..." Freakshow flicked the still lit cigar hard in Knox's direction, making it hit his large brown sleeve. "...smoking kills!" Instead of rebuking, Knox stomped on the cigar, finally putting it out and marched off, leaving the villain to just laugh by himself.

Away from the cell across the station, Commissioner Martyn and Vlad pulled out a large metal table in front of them, Ned, Sally and Knox. Whatever was on the table was being covered up by a large white tarp. "Now you see, after we got our man, we decided to take off his blazer and do a little search of our own. You might want to take a little look at what we found..." Martyn pulled off the tarp, making Ned and Sally's eyes widen and jaws drop.

On the metal table was a treasure trove of criminal weaponry, more than enough to suit three criminal masterminds separately. There were all kinds of different guns used by thugs: Berettas, double barrels, revolvers, pistols and even one large shotgun. But was even more shocking than the number of guns was the large assortment of knives: carving, serrated, bowie, a dagger or two and even one that you might classify as a miniature sword. The rest of the gallery of deadly objects consisted of miniature bombs, tasers, poison darts and some devices that not even the police could identify. But the thing that stood out on the table was not a weapon, but a fresh Freakshow's own calling card.

Martyn then picked something up from his desk and showed it to the Mayor before setting it down on the metal table. "Patrol officers found this just about 10 minutes ago on a street Vlad chased our guy down." It was Freakshow's golden desert eagle. "If I remember correctly, this is Freaky's favourite."

Freakshow's voice yelled to the four Whos and black-bottom eagle from his cell, _"Oh, yeah, that reminds me; whatever happened to Vonfrood? Is he finally dead yet?" _The psycho had nearly forgotten that exciting moment when he shot the Chairman across the head.

Ned rolled his eyes as he picked up the desert eagle and looked it over in his hand, not looking back at his son's cell. "No. Unfortunately, he still lives and will be back at work in no time to continue making my life miserable." He then sat the desert eagle back down on the metal table next to a double barrel and remarked, "You know, for someone who uses this as their favourite weapon, you've got some lousy aim with it!"

The blue-faced menace laughed back in response, "Yeah and if I remember correctly, back at the gala you had a gun pointed right at my head. I was about one foot in front of you and what happened?" He finished dryly and unimpressed, "You shot the goon that was right behind me." When Freakshow heard no smart or witty comeback from anyone standing outside the cells, he rested down on the cell bench and closed his eyes. "Just what I thought." Nobody could out comeback the Freakshow. Nobody.

* * *

Meanwhile, in downtown Whoville at a rundown storage facility near an old prison, the manager was walking outside down a row of garage doors with two Whos in bowler hats behind him. This place was used by Whos from all other downtown to stash all their old junk and these two mystery Whos had arrived to drop of theirs half an hour ago. However, like all other customers, they had to have their storage checked out by the manager to see if everything was completely under legal boundaries. The Whos running the storage facility did not want to get caught up in the middle of any problems with the police if any drugs or weapons were discovered.

"All right, we just need to have a quick check and everything will be squared away." The manager said as the three stopped in front of a large green garage door that had the number '6' on it. He took out a remote, pointed it at the door and clicked the button. The garage door slowly lifted upward, letting the light installed into the opposite row of garage doors peer into the storage room.

"Of course, sir." One of the bowler hatted men said.

The manager took a torch off his belt, switched it on and pointed it into the room. "Now let's see what we have in here..." but when the torch light illuminated some of the objects that were hung up on the walls or were in an unorganised was, stacked into any space available, the manager's face went pale. There were guns, knives and open crates full of chemicals and machinery not meant for the average Who. "What...what the Hell is all this?! Gaaaggh!"

Dropping the torch and remote, the manager fell to the hard wet ground on his front. He was dead. Claude removed his bowler hat and shot his silenced revolver into the manager's back two more times, just to make sure. "I'm terribly sorry about that. But I have to follow the Boss' orders..." he tossed the revolver to the other bowler hatted Who and then kicked the manager's corpse over onto its back. "...'there are to be _zero _witnesses.'"

* * *

The light hanging from the ceiling of the pitch white interrogation room flashed on, revealing a tired looking Marvin Caine sitting behind a scratched-up table with a recording box on top. Caine was wearing his usual lab coat but his black lensed goggles had been taken away by the police, revealing his grey eyes. One by one, the police were now interrogating Freakshow and his top two Whos, starting with the psychiatrist. What the cops were trying to get out of these interrogations was basically anything they could use, depending on each of the criminals. Each one had a different interrogator, the best one suited for criminal under the light.

At the end of the interrogation room, the large metal door made a buzzing noise and it swung open. Dr. Mary Lou Larue walked inside, not wearing her usual lab coat but instead a furry purple getup. She sat down on the chair facing opposite the one Cain was sitting in, only the table in between them.

Putting her arms on the table, Larue looked sternly at her former colleague, "I didn't think I'd see you of all Whos tonight, Marvin..."

* * *

Behind the reflecting interrogation window, Commissioner Martyn and Lieutenant Knox sat down on chairs in a private dark in front of a control panel, listening in on everything being said. Among the two officers was Ned, Sally, Horton and co, the last five being called from their penthouse to listening in on the interrogations.

"You really think we're gonna get anything outta this guy?" Morton stood on the control panel and looked up dryly at Martyn.

"This guy's in Freaky's inner-circle." Martyn stared at the interrogation that was proceeding through the window carefully. "He's gotta know something..."

* * *

Dr. Caine looked at Larue crossly and asked her, "Now what do you want from me, Mary?"

"For one thing, you can tell me where all Freakshow's hidden documents are." Larue told him, twiddling her thumbs together. "Accounting, machine schematics, anything we can use."

The psychiatrist looked up at the ceiling and whistled. "Mary that is some serious crap you're asking of me. Not to say I wouldn't mind divulging such information to a former friend, but there is a problem..." He looked back at Larue and now put his hands on the table. "...Freakshow hides all those himself; he's too suspicious to trust anyone with knowledge of their location."

"Must be a result of his psychological damage."

"Obviously." Caine said with a hint of 'duh' in his voice. "Freakshow does not even trust his little girlfriend with such knowledge. Some of these documents can even link to partners outside the syndicate, they're that _juicy." _He scratched his chin and strummed his fingers on the table. "My role in his organisation is all the scientifical junk. I perform all kinds of experiments with new weapons, help design machines and programme computers. Jobs that some of his goons are just too stupid to do themselves."

"I guess that makes a very important Who in his gang."

Caine looked down at his hands and muttered loud enough for Larue to just hear, "It's not like we play pocket billiards every night at 10:00 PM. But in desperate times, a Who has to make his living one way or another..." He now glared intensely at the purple haired Who. "Especially after he has lost everything else. Like his...former job and all the prestige that came with it."

Larue knew what he was talking about and replied coldly, "You deserved to lose your job at Who U, Marvin."

"I used to be one of the most respected minds in the whole of Whoville for my skills in psychology!" Caine stood up from his seat and towered over Dr. Larue in a threatening manner. "That was a mighty sweet plum, Larue and losing it was the most embarrassing, no..._humiliating _moment in my entire life!"

The scientist stood up from her seat also and looked Caine in the eye, hissing, "It was a position you never once deserved!"

Caine threw his arms into the air and exclaimed, "Okay, so perhaps my methods were a tad extreme! That is no reason to reject me as a scientist!"

"You fired a gun in a classroom full of students!"

"I was illustrating a point!" Caine slammed his fist onto the table, making it shake on its wooden legs. "Then what did _you _do, Mary?! What did you do?!" He was now becoming furiously at the memories of the humiliating loss of his job. "You went off and squealed to the Dean! You got me fired!"

She shoved the male Who hard in the shoulder and yelling, "I did that because I was worried for the students' safety! Who in their right mind takes a weapon into a classroom?!"

He shoved her back just as hard. "Oh, like I would actually shoot one of them! You just had to over exaggerate everything out of proportion like back when we were teenagers in school!" He was now dangerously close to using more than just his words to settle this argument. "Back then we could have gone places together! With our knowledge and scientific understanding, who knows what we could have accomplished! But no, it was those damn morals of yours that got in the way every time!"

"I'm glad to at least have some!" Larue was now on the verge of lashing out violently at Caine. "Otherwise, I might have ended up a mad scientist like you!"

"Now I'm 'mad' am I?! Just by shooting a gun in a classroom, that makes me some loony?!"

"Actually, I was referring to all the times you locked innocent Whos in rooms with snakes and spiders!"

Caine now got up close in Larue's face. "Those were all part of my research and those Whos were all paid well for their part!" She all ways brought that topic up whenever she could. "They signed the wavers and so I was in no way responsible for any permanent damage down to them!"

"Tell yourself whatever you want, you'll all ways be the same derranged whacko I met in the 3rd Grade!" Larue screamed back in Caine's face, her fists shaking. "At least now you're going away in prison. That way I won't have to deal with you ever again!"

"You insolent little-!"

But Larue cut him off before he finished, "No, shut up! You know, when I was first called to come here, I didn't want to come. After all, I thought that I had been through enough for one night." Her eyes narrowed and spat. "But when I heard you were here, I just couldn't pass up the opportunity for just once...to see you squirm!"

**"I'll show you 'squirming'!" **Caine reached out his arms and was going to ring Larue around the neck if the door had not slammed open, making the two look to the back of the interrogation room. Commissioner Martyn and Lt. Knox marched into the room and towards the two Whos, the latter pointing his gun at the psychiatrist.

"All right, I think that'll be enough!" Martyn pushed Caine back down onto the chair and began escorting Dr. Larue out of the interrogation. "We thank you again for coming, Dr. Larue, but it seems that we're not going to get much out of him." As this happened, Knox still pointed the gun at Caine just in case he tried to pull something off. Unfortunately, this interrogation had not proven as useful as the police were hoping.

* * *

Half an hour had passed and now it was onto Green Lilith's interrogation. The police had figured that Freakshow's mistress should now

Green Lilith or Vicky Vikally was sitting behind the table, wearing the same spandex Lycra catsuit she was arrested in, except her mask had been removed, showing her pale and crazed face. Her interrogator was none other than Kangaroo, who paced back and forth in front of the scratched-up table.

"So what you're saying is that you know absolutely..." She pressed her knuckles against the scratched surface of the table. _"...nothing?!"_

Lilith shook her head, "Nothing." She confirmed.

But Kangaroo was not going to take that for an answer. "You are practically hovering around Freaky 24/7 and 'amazingly' have no information you can tell us." She put on a thinking posture before she scowled and snapped, "I find that very hard to believe, Vikally!"

"Look, I don't necessarily work for him..." Green Lilith found it hard to describe it in a subtle way. "...I'm just there to give my little Freaky some soothing relief. You know, a little 'comfort' and 'relaxation'. Just a little _company..." _She winked at the tall female Kangaroo, whom of which had all ready gotten the basic idea.

"Oh, I see. You're just his little whore!" Kangaroo huffed in disgust at the young Who. "Typical. The villain all ways needs a little girlfriend to toy around with." She pulled her chair out from the table and carefully sat down, looking questionably at the green-clad girl. "Can I...can I ask you something?"

Green Lilith cocked her head. "Depends on the subject..."

"Well...what does your little 'Freaky' tell you when you're both alone 'having fun', exactly?" Kangaroo queried, resting back in her chair. "Does he you tell you of his thoughts...his feelings...his secrets?"

"That's on a need to know bases. Meaning..." She leaned forward. "You don't need to know."

Kangaroo clenched her teeth and growled at Lilith warningly, "If I were you, I'd start cooperating. Don't think I'm afraid to use dangerous methods, because I'm not!" She then stood up, grabbed her by the collar and pulled her up to the marsupial's eye level. "Now start spilling information!"

"Or what?!"

"Or this..." Kangaroo used her other hand to grab Lilith around the neck. When she began tightening her grip, Lilith got the message that she had better say something.

Darting her eyes left and right, Green Lilith finally blurted out all most randomly, "Uh...well, uh...I've slept with him ten times now!"

Kangaroo dropped Green Lilith back onto her chair and pulled back, scrunching up her face repulsed. "Oh...ugh! Gah!" She could not believe what she had just heard from this girl. "You...you actually slept with him?!" The very thought of Lilith having sexual relations with that deformed psycho ten times in a row was enough to make her retch! "Oh, jeez! That was something I did _not _need to know!"

"Hey, you wanted to know information and to be frank, I think that counts!"

Shaking her head in frustration, the purple kangaroo hit the table with her fist with enough strength to leave a mark. "You wanna know something, Vikally...?"

"What?"

_"He doesn't love you." _

Green Lilith looked very taken back by that comment, making her stammer nervously, "What...what do you mean? Of course he loves me."

This actually made Kangaroo let out a loud sharp mocking laugh as she crossed her arms. "Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! You really think that little nut job loves and cares about you?! Ha, ha, ha, ha!" Normally, Kangaroo was not one to laugh much, but this was something the mammal found hilarious. "I hate to break this to you, kid, but there is an all most zero chance of your 'Freaky' actually giving a damn about you! You're just blinded by your hopes of living happily ever after with your 'boyfriend'!"

"That's not true!"

Towering over the female Who, the Kangaroo continued her little speech. "But it is, kid. Let me put it in layman's terms; once 'Freaky' has gotten bored with you, he's gonna toss you aside like an old glove! To him, girls like you are a dime a dozen!"

"Well...how do _you _know?" Lilith was actually sounding desperate. She did not want to think Kangaroo was right and that Freakshow would cast her aside one day, but something deep down inside her was telling that the marsupial was right.

Kangaroo's expression then turned soft and even sad as she pulled back and spoke ruthfully, "Because...I've been in your position as well, kid. I know what's like..." She looked down at her pouch and pulled on it slightly. "...to be with a man who you think will make your dreams come true, but then later smashes them into pieces." Kangaroo looked back up at Green Lilith and told her, "Now listen, unlike Freakshow, you still have a chance to turn back. You've got family who miss you and the chance to find a man who actually _does _love you. All you need to do is make the choice of where your loyalties are; with us or him? What's it gonna be, Vicky?"

Green Lilith did seem to take a moment to truly contemplate this, before she glared back up and the kangaroo, "Go to Hell!" With that said, she spat a large wad of saliva in her interrogator's face.

Now that was what did it for Kangaroo, who slowly wiped the saliva off her face and cracked her knuckles. "All right...that's it..."

* * *

Minutes later, Sally McDodd walked into the private room behind the reflecting window of the interrogation room, holding a cup of coffee. She looked at everyone in the room, who all looked exasperated and tired, like something bad just happened. "Something wrong?"

"Kangaroo just interrogated Vikally." Horton groaned, rubbing his head with his trunk.

"What happened?"

The purple marsupial herself walked out the private room and into the hallway, answering the First Lady as she did. "I punched her in the face."

"Oh."

* * *

The time had now come. The police had interrogated those in Freakshow's inner circle, but now it was time to have a moment with the psycho himself. Marvin Caine and Green Lilith had given them barely anything they could use, so Freakshow was their last option if they were to find out _anything. _But the problem was finding an appropriate interrogator for the deformed Who. It had to be someone who was nearly as strange or mysterious as the homicidal Who himself. Now our heroes only had one person, or creature who was at least close enough to fit that profile and they did not feel all the comfortable with it.

Vlad Vladikoff stood in front of the door that led into the interrogation room with Ned and Horton next to him. The Mayor rubbed the back of his own neck and said unsurely to the black-bottom eagle, "Look, Vlad, we appreciate that you wanna help, but are you sure you wanna go through with this?"

"I'll be fine. I'm the only one he'll talk to, trust me."

"Okay, but try not to make it so personal." Horton frowned, knowing full well of how Vlad felt about all of this, especially after the eagle's chase of Freakshow through Whoville.

Vlad responded, turning the door's handle with his claw, "Don't worry..." He walked into the room and said darkly, "...I'll try." He slammed the door behind him, making Horton and Ned look at each other in concern. Something bad was going to go down...

* * *

Inside the cold pitch white interrogation room, Vlad looked around the familiar surroundings in which he and Horton interrogated the drug dealer Harvey Chilton. He turned his attention to the one sitting in the chair behind the table from across the room. Freakshow was sitting there, looking full of himself and resting his blue hands on the top of the table, where cups and a large glass jug of water was set.

"Mr. Vladikoff, how nice of you to drop by." Freakshow grinned devilishly at seeing Vlad approaching him. "Funny, I was half expecting my father. Oh well, at you're someone I can talk to." The black-bottom eagle said nothing at he reached the table and perched himself on the backrest of his own chair.

* * *

Meanwhile in the private room behind the window, Sally looked at Ned and Horton who just walked inside. "Ned, I don't feel right with this..."

Yummo scratched his blue chest and agreed, "Yeah, Vlad's not gonna pass up a golden opportunity to beat the snot outta this kid."

"It'll be fine." Ned reassured them and looked through the window at his son and the carnivorous bird. "Vlad just needs to keep his cool..."

* * *

Back in the interrogation room, Vlad just sat there perched on his chair's backrest, glaring down intensely at the little psycho in front of him as if he were a fat little caterpillar. There was a long eerie silence between the two; so silent that you could hear a pin drop. Finally, tired of waiting, Freakshow spoke up dryly, "Well...?"

Vlad jumped off the backrest of his chair and began circling around the table and the little nutcase in the chair. "'Well', what?"

"Aren't you gonna start threatening to break my neck or pummel my stomach?" Freakshow asked of the eagle, watching his every move each time he came into view. "Come on, Vlad. Intimidate me until I'm on my knees, begging for mercy."

"I prefer a more professional approach." Vlad spoke icily, not looking at the homicidal Who in the eye but at his own sharp talons. "Commissioner Martyn has asked me to find out whatever I can from you and I'll go to any length to do so." Now he did look at Freakshow eye to eye. "So...here is my first little query..."

"Go ahead." Freakshow rested his back onto the rest of his chair. Something told him this was going to one tense interrogation, not like Caine and Lilith's.

The black-bottom eagle began carving light patterns into the table as he spoke, "I want to know...why."

Freakshow raised his eyebrow. "Um...you need to be a little more specifi-"

_Wham!_

Vlad grabbed the top of Freakshow's head and slammed it hard on the table, strong enough to make he glass jug of water shake slightly. Pulling back and rubbing his hurting forehead, Freakshow said plainly, "Ow. That...that hurt, Vladikoff."

"Do I look like I care?!" Vlad spat angrily, pointing his talon at himself. "You want me to be specific? Fine!" He began leaning forward into Freakshow's face as he continued, "I want to know why you robbed that bank. I want to know why you made that train crash, killing all those Who riding inside it. I want to know why you went from the Mayor's son to a **murderous little psychopath!"**

Pushing Vlad's large beak out of his face, Freakshowscratched the side of his head and said, "Oh, I see. Well...that's not an easy question to answer."

"Really? Is that because you have no good reason?!"

"No, of course I have good reasons. All though, it will depend from your view really if they're good enough."

Vlad grabbed Freakshow by the green snake tie and yanked him up close. "Tell me now." He pushed the psycho back hard into his chair, nearly sending it off its two front metal legs.

Straightening out his multicoloured hair, Freakshow looked dryly at the eagle and spoke to him as such, "Hmm, let me start my answer with a few questions of my own. Number one: why do people rebuild things that they know one day are going to be destroyed? Number two: Why do people hoard all the material possessions they can get their filthy little hands on even if they know they can't take them to their graves? And number three: why do people cling to life when they know they cannot live forever?" He paused and rested the side of his face in palm. "Just think how meaningless each of our lives is, Vlad..."

"If you're trying to make a point...!"

"Oh, I am, don't you worry!" The blue-face menace cut him off sharply. He clicked his fingers a few times and mused, "Vlad...after my little make-over, everything for me that I hadn't lost all ready went down the drain." Freakshow tapped his mutilated face gently. "Let's face it; no Who was going to accept a _freak _as their future Mayor. I was going to be cast out like a monster, there's no denying it. So basically, my whole world went up in flames. I realised that I now had _nothing. _Nothing to lose, nothing to gain."

"So you thought that made it perfectly all right for you to make Whoville just as miserable as you are."

Freakshow shook his head. "I don't exactly look miserable, do I? No, I'm attacking Whoville because..." He slid his fingers in between each other. "...I'm trying to make it clear that even a city where "nothing _ever_ goes wrong" can be twisted and corrupted into a cavern of chaos and boy am I doing a good job of it! It's just like how I, the mild-mannered Mayor's son was transformed into a monstrous nutcase. Why did I decide to do all this?" He lowered his voice to sound a bit more dramatic, _"Because now I can."_

Vlad was unsure of what to say. He was still absorbing all this new shocking information, but there was still one question he needed answered. "Why did you kill Devon Yexley? I mean, I know you never liked him and that nothing was holding you back, but was there a reason?"

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!" Freakshow's cackle sounded like a strike of lightning. "You, ha ha, you still haven't figured it out yet, heh, heh, have you?! Ha, ha, ha, ha!" He calmed himself down enough to say without bursting into laughter. "Don't...don't you remember wh-what I said to Vonfrood, a-at the gala? I only have someone murdered if it is necessary or more importantly, I want them dead. Now Devon...heh, heh...he did something that really made me wanna slaughter him like a dog." He took a cup and filled it up with the glass jug of cold water. "If you wanna know what he did that was so bad I killed him for it, then you need to look at it simply and ask yourself; where was he the day I turned all blue? Where was he the moment I fell into those chemicals?"

"What are you saying, McDodd?"

The psycho simply answered both of his own questions to make it clear for the eagle. "He was there, standing over me on the catwalk as I dangled helplessly from the edge!" He began messing up his hair and tried to drink his water, which was pretty hard to do considering he was laughing during so. "That little green whelp was the one who stopped me from climbing back up to safety! Ha, ha, ha, ha! You know, there everyone was, making a big fuss over me killing Devon, while they had no idea of how he made me. If only the press had the full story, they would have made an even bigger mint from that morning's paper!"

Furiously, Vlad Vladikoff grabbed the deformed Who by the collar this time and lifted him completely off his seat, making those in the private room feel even more uneasy...

* * *

Sally looked at her husband worryingly, "Ned!"

"It's all right." Ned said slowly to everyone in the room, trying to calm them all down. "He's still in control here. Just take it easy." But he himself knew that this interrogation was taking a bad course. It was only a matter of time...

* * *

"Why didn't you tell any of us back when you were in the hospital then?!" The eagle squawked, shaking Freakshow repeatedly back and forth. "We could've sorted it out and have Devon arrested, bringing him to justice to proper way! But instead you tracked him down and savagely shot him dead!"

Freakshow roared back, "Well, maybe justice in terms of the law just doesn't cut it! Not after how he ruined my life! Sometimes the only way to achieve true justice is by doing it yourself!" He pried himself from the bird's claw and slumped back down. "But...but you know what...what the humorous side of it all is? Do ya?" He arched his back backward and chuckled in a sinister way. "Good old Devon decided my fate by chance! Ha, ha, ha! You hear me? He decided my fate by a coin flip! A coin flip! Ha, ha, ha, ha! And they call _me _crazy!" Freakshow slammed his hand on the table three times and added, "After I...heh, heh, tracked him down, I...ha, ha, did the same thing! I flipped a coin of my own and when I got my most favourable result...ka-blam! Delicious irony, Vlad! Huahahahahaha!"

At first calmly pouring himself a cup of water, Vlad asked the laughing psychopath, "And who sounds like the bad guy _now_, Freak?"

"Ah, good guy, bad guy, a lot of the time it's impossible to tell the difference." the eagle only responded by tossing the cup of water in Freakshow's face. The latter lips the water off from his mouth and grinned, "Refreshing, Vlad. I really think I needed that."

"Devon might have dropped you into that vat of chemicals, McDodd, but only _you _messed your life up!" He swiftly back-handed Freakshow across the right side of his face. "You've become nothing more than a sadist that kills for the sheer fun of it!"

At hearing that last comment, the blue-faced menace's laughter fell silent and his face became sullen. "Vlad...please don't talk as if you're a good guy...like _them." _He gestured his hand towards the reflecting window, knowing full well whom was behind it. "Because guess what? You are not a good guy, not even if you _want _to be one!"

"It's not your place to make that judgement!"

"I don't have to, you idiot!" Freakshow shot back, angered by how Vlad was diloushioned from the truth. "The other Whos in Whoville maybe look like they've put it all behind them, but wake up and smell the coffee, bird-brain; a lot of them still have that little chip on their shoulder." He clearly took sadistic joy at the look on the black-bottom eagle's face when he brought up the next part, "I'm sure you know what I'm talking about, right Vlad? Over half a year ago, when you tried to destroy the clover I and my people live on. I might be a killer myself...but you tried to do was cold-blooded _genocide!" _

The eagle roared as angry and loudly as possibly could, making some of the nutcases' hair fly backward, **"How dare you?! I had no idea that Horton was telling the truth at that time!"**

However, Freakshow looked completely unaffected by Vlad's outburst. "And that makes it perfectly all right, birdie?!" Vlad did not answer that and the deformed Who snickered evilly, "It's strange. When you look at it from..._my _perspective, you'll see that you and I are a lot a like."

Vlad spat in his rival's face. "I'm _nothing _like you!"

"Or so you might think?" Freakshow corrected and straightened out his green snake tie, which he noticed was looking crooked. "But let's take note of our similarities; we both have a taste for the theatrical...we're both a little _kooky _in the head...and most importantly of all...we're serial killers. Or at least you tried, anyway and failed _twice_ miserably!"

"Well, I can name one very important difference between us..." Vlad retorted in a big though guy way. "...I'm on the side that's putting you away and restoring sanity back to Whoville. At least that will be one good thing I have done-"

This time Freakshow heard a comment that made him laugh so hard he began pulling on his hair and hitting his head on the table intentionally. **"HA! Ha, hoo, hoo, ha, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, ha!" **Now this actually creeped Vlad out a bit and after regaining his composure, the psycho taunted the eagle, "Vladikoff, do you really believe that by putting me away in a lunatic asylum, things in Whoville are going to go back to normal?! That is what I call a bad, _bad _joke! Even badder than mine!"

"That's what you said!"

"Yeah, but I was oversimplifying the matter after having a good think over it in my cell." Freakshow folded his arms and smirked so wickedly, just looking at it could make your skin crawl. "The cruel and inconvenient reality to this situation is that I..." he took a moment to consider the best way to describe it. "...have changed the rules!"

Beating Freakshow across the face again, this time with the front of his claw, Vlad screeched, "What you're doing isn't like a game, Freakshow!"

The blue-faced menace just shook of any pain he felt from being hit across the face and continued, "Anyway, like I was saying...I have disrupted the order of Whoville. I've inspired the criminal underworld to step up from the darkness and take action." He prodded his chest and said proudly, "I'm their fearless leader; their general of discord and chaos. Fine, you can put in a straightjacket and a padded cell, even _kill _me if you want! But what difference will it make, Vladikoff?!"

"It will make all the difference in the world!"

Cocking his head slightly to the right, Freakshow asked to seemingly no one, "Judges?" He made a loud buzzing noise like on a quiz show. "Wrong! Sure, after a few months off peace and quiet, another psycho will emerge from out of nowhere and continue what I left off! Face it, there is no way of escaping chaos! It's all ways gonna be there, no matter what people do! To put is short and simple..." He rubbed his hands together and moved right into Vlad's face. "...I've all ready won."

Vlad had had enough of him. "That's it! I think I have heard enough from you!" He turned his back on the maniac sitting in front of him and made his way to the door of the interrogation room. "I'll see you at the asylum when you're all doped up on drugs!" But when the black-bottom eagle had reached the door handle, Freakshow's voice piped up once again.

"Oh, by the way, Vlad, one last thing...I've seen how your mind works, _Freak!"_

The eagle froze in place and turned around, looking wide-eyed at the psycho. "What did you say?" He better not have heard what he thought he heard.

"Yes it's true, Vladdy." Freakshow rested his chin in the back of his hands. "Back in the city, after I knocked you unconscious, I had the Laruenizer right with me so I thought 'what the hell? Let's have some fun.'" He tapped his head to symbolise going into the mind. "I didn't get much time to search around on the account I was soon caught by the cops, but...heh, heh...I quickly found one vital memory of yours that explained _a lot." _

"From where?"

"From a time where everyone's character is formed the most..._childhood." _Freakshow's grin grew more wicked and malicious the closer he got to the point he knew would drive Vlad up the wall. "Like I said earlier; I bet people have questioned you about how you got those marks on your beak." He was right, the marking on Vlad's long yellow beak were distinct enough to raise questions. "What _could _have caused them? I bet nobody else in Nool knows, but here's the beauty part...I do!"

Vlad's grip on the door handle began shaking. "Shut up." He said, his face going clammy and sweating pouring sliding down his long beak.

"But why? I'm just getting to best part." Freakshow was not going to pass showing up Vlad for what he truly was deep down. "When I looked at that memory, it planted a fresh copy into my mind. It took a little while to clear it up in my mind but oh, how I enjoy reliving that flashback every single time! I practically found everything anyone needs to know about you from that single memory!" He then frowned with a look of disappointment, "All though...I must admit, I was expecting something a little less...predictable."

"Predictable'?'"

Freakshow now came to the big climax of his humiliation of Vlad. "I'm afraid so, because from what I saw, I've discovered that behind that villainous and brooding exterior you're nothing that just a scared little chicky who runs in fear of his daddy! You know, it would be funny if it wasn't so pathetic..." He stopped and seemed to really think this one over, until his sadistic smile returned wider than over. "Ah, what the Hell...I'll laugh anyway!" Spreading his arms open, the derranged little psycho broke into a maniacal laughter. **"HUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!"** The was a low buzzing noise and Freakshow thought Vlad had left the room, until he opened his eyes and squeaked, _"Oh, dear..."_

In a blind fury, Vlad Vladikoff launched himself off the floor and darted straight across the interrogation room like a rocket. He crashed into the maniac sitting there, sending him off the chair and rolling onto the floor. Freakshow did not get the chance to stand up before Vlad lifted the deformed Who by the collar and _**thwack, **_nailed him square in the face!

Falling back onto the floor for the second time with blood trickling down his nose, Freakshow grabbed his sides and coughed up both blood and spittle. "Oooh, you crazy son of a bitch..."

The black-bottom eagle did not listen but grabbed the glass jug off from the table with his claw. _**Smash! **_Vlad struck it against the side of Freakshow's head, shattering it to millions of sharp pieces and drenching the Who in cold water!

_Bang! Bang!_

_"Vlad! Open-this-door!" _Sally's voice screamed from behind the door. She and the others had most definitely seen what was happening from behind the reflecting window. They had to stop the eagle before he actually killed Freakshow; he was pushed that far to do it. But Vlad expected they would try and stop him so why else did he lock the interrogation room door?

_"We mean it, Vlad!" _Morton's voice yelled from behind the door also.

But the large carnivorous bird paid no attention to any of them. He glared down at the Who that had pushed him to far, wiggling around on the floor like a worm. Freakshow was still laughing mockingly at Vlad, despite the latter had just punched him in the face and crashed a glass jug on his head.

"Grrrrr!" Vlad reached out his claw and yanked the blue-faced menace up by the head. "I'm going to kill you!" He then threw the homicidal Who over his head and smashed the maniac onto the table behind them. _**Slam! **_The table broke in half under such force, leaving Freakshow to land onto the floor on his back.

Freakshow was no in immense pain, but still the psycho looked up at the eagle and sneered through his soaked and blooded face, "Vladikoff..." He coughed up some more blood. "...if you had the guts to do that...heh, heh, heh...**you would have done it back in the city when you had the opportunity!!"**

"Well, now I've got a second opportunity! And so help me, I will not waste it!" Seeing the reflecting window to his right, Vlad now got an idea. He held Freakshow up by his red vest and tossed him through the air in the direction of the window. _**Crash! **_Freakshow flew right into the window, shattering it upon impact!

* * *

Now inside the private room behind the interrogation room, the psycho rolled right over the control panel and onto the cold filthy floor with some of the other reflecting shards. By now, Freakshow was aching all over in severe pain and was covered in water, blood and scratches from the window shards. Yet, despite being savagely beaten and even smashed through windows, this homicidal lunatic was still laughing his head off maniacally.

Vlad stepped out through the large gaping hole in the window frame, casting a dark shadow over Freakshow's writhing body. He was going to do it. He was going to put a permanent end to Freakshow right now. But when he landed in front of his enemy's aching body and raised his claw to deliver the killing blow...

_Wham! _Lt. Knox came up from behind Vlad and hit the black-bottom eagle at the back of the head with his baton. Vlad moaned and stumbled for a bit, before losing his balance and collapsing to the floor. His vision blurring, the last thing Vlad saw was a wave off hands coming down on him and Freakshow's bodies. The last thing he heard: nothing else but Freakshow's voice, laughing and taunting him before the eagle fell unconscious for what was the second time...

* * *

**(A/N) And I will end it there! You know something, this chapter has to be number one on my list of emotional chapters in this story. I think I have no formed a permanent rivalry between Freakshow and Vlad Vladikoff, especially considering how personal Freaky has made it for the black-bottom eagle. Anyway, my favourite part of this chapter has to be Freakshow's interrogation by Vlad, of course. In the next chapter, Freakshow is going to pull off one more nasty surprise for Whoville and we also get a scene where Vlad comes clean with his troubled past. Until then, Read and Review!**


	12. Chapter Eleven: Two pasts, two breakouts

**(A/N) All right, everyone, I am back with chapter eleven. Now, this chapter is where the final phases of Freaky's plan unfolds, turning Whoville into what he calls a 'cavern of chaos'. Also, we get ourselves a scene with Vlad where we learn of his dark and tragic past. I guess you will have to read on and see for yourselves. P.S: Sorry for the long wait. I guess you can blame getting back into the routine of school and homework for that. Well, anyway, just enjoy a good read.**

* * *

**Chapter Eleven**

**Two pasts, two breakouts**

The Whoville Insane Asylum was as you guessed, a institution where Whos that are mentally damaged Whos are placed, depending if the Who is an immediate threat to harm him/herself or other Whos. It was especially a place for Whos that were criminally insane, or 'wackos' as some of the authorities may call them. But having 'wackos' in the asylum was not all _that _common for those in charge; it was commonly just Whos that had experienced mental breakdowns and had become 'dangerous'. The biggest 'wackos' ever known to have been checked into the asylum were famous historical criminal maniacs such as Jaque the shredder and Bloody Bertie. These, among with others have left their mark in whostory as violent killers, making them still feared to this very day, But at this very moment, one more of those 'murderous wackos' was being checked into the asylum and becoming a most special addition to this 'loony gallery'...

"Ha, ha, ha, ha!" Freakshow cackled as the Whos dressed white coats held him down onto the padded floor of the cell. The psycho was feeling really ticklish at the moment, so having other Whos restrain him did not help. "Let go of me! That tickles, you filthy bastards!"

It was 1:20 AM. After what had happened an hour ago at the police interrogation room between him and Vlad, Freakshow had to be transferred to the asylum mainly for his own protection from the eagle's wrath. It was for the best anyway as the police could not keep the psycho at the cell for months on end until his trial and temporarily putting him in prison was not the best option. But he was not the only one; Green Lilith was deemed clearly far too insane for temporary incarceration in prison until trial, so she was sent off to the asylum in a straitjacket also. Meanwhile, Dr. Marvin Caine and the rest of Freakshow's gruesome gang of goons were deemed mentally fit to serve a temporary prison sentence until their trial in court and were sent off in handcuffs.

The trained workers at the Whoville Insane Asylum however, no matter how much experience they had received from dealing with all the nutcases "Just hold still!" The first Who dressed in a white coat pulled out a large straitjacket and began fitting it onto Freakshow while the second Who firmly held him down. "We're nearly finished! Hold on...hold...on...there!"

_Click. _The Whos dressed in white coats finally let go of Freakshow, letting the latter calm down and see himself now dressed up tight in the straitjacket. But what was odd to the homicidal Who was that instead of a buckle holding the straitjacket together, there was this electric lock with a black screen and green keys on the front. "Ooooh, you know, I have been hearing some fancy talk about these here gadgets! Nice touch!"

Stepping up over the deranged psychopath, the two Whos in white coats brushed their hands clean. "It's a new upgrade, designed for maximum restraint. Not even the strongest of you nutcases can break out of this, only the proper pass code." The second who dressed in a white coat stated firmly as he and the first walked over to the metal door. "Better get comfortable in that thing, because you're going to be strapped up in it for the rest of you're life! Frankly, I don't why you're even _getting _a trial!"

Freakshow just shrugged as much as the restraining straitjacket would allow him to. "Hey, don't ask _me _how the system works. Hell, I'm the one trying to tear it down."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. We'll see ya when it's time to dope you up!" The first Who dressed in a white coat muttered before and the second were both outside and slammed the door shut. There was the sound of keys being pushed, a low buzzing noise and the sound of several locks shutting. Now only the dim light above reflecting off against the white padded walls illuminated the cell.

Breathing in heavily through his nostrils, Freakshow edged backwards to the far padded wall of the cell and rested his back against it. After relaxing his tense muscles, little Freaky let out a calm sigh and looked to his left. There was a small square window made of thick glass, letting the current occupent of the cell look into the other and vice versa. He smiled warmly and smoothly, loud enough for the occupant to hear him, "Hey, baby."

Suddenly, Green Lilith's face appeared in front of the small clear mirror, even making Freaky himself jump slightly. Her face was not forced into a wide permanent creepy grin, wider than ever before and her right eye twitched madly. Now Freakshow had seen this girl crazy before, but 'crazy' in the sadistic torturer kind of way. This was the roll around the floor, gibbering like a baboon kind of 'crazy'. **"Hey, Freaky, baby!!" **She practically screamed in a high-pitch, spit flying out of her mouth and onto the window.

Finding it hard to choose the right words for speaking to Lilith in this kind of state, Freakshow merely said, "Yeeeaaah...hello, hon."

"It's been nearly an hour since we've seen each other!" Green Lilith whimpered, her body shaking her long green hair standing on end. She was still wearing her green and grey Lycra catsuit minus her mask which had been taken into storage by the asylum. Like Freakshow, Lilith was strapped up tightly in a straitjacket with a high-tech buckle holding it together. "Where did you gooooo?!"

"I've been trying to fight off the Asylum workers strapping me in this here jacket." Freakshow deadpanned, looking down at his straitjacket, which surprisingly felt a lot more soft and comfortable than he at first thought. "Wow, this does feel nice and snug."

"Oh..." Green Lilith looked down at Freakshow's straitjacket also. "Well, I still think that you look attractive in it."

Freakshow smirked and pushed himself over to the small square window, looking directly at his lover's face. "You don't look too bad yourself, Lilith!" He and Lilith then pressed their lips against the smooth glass of the window as if they were kissing each other. "Come on, give me some sugar, babe!"

Lilith giggled playfully, rubbing her nose against the glass window, "Babe, you're a damn good kisser even through glass!" Next, Lilith licked her tongue hard against the window, moaning in ecstasy, "When we get outta this place, I'm gonna make a date with you in a big, soft bed! Heh, heh, heh!"

"All right, and I'll make sure to fill my gloves full of Vaseline a couple of hours before." Freaky grinned and looked at the his little Whore playfully, his breath fogging up the window slightly. "I all ways want to have smooth soft hands when I'm having fun in bed with you!" The two began giggling hysterically in some sick horny kind of way before they were cut off by an unexpected voice.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" An irritated voice coming from the window of the opposite side of Freakshow's cell yelled. "I'm starting to worry what will happen between the two of you when left alone in the same room!"

The blue-faced menace turned around and saw another face starring into his cell from the small window. It was the face of a rugged purple male Who, who only had slight traces of black facial hair on his chin and neck. One could tell that he was a tall, chiseled and well-built Who just taking a quick glance from his shoulders upward. Why every part of his part of his anatomy defined sharp and strong, especially his cold all most pupiless eyes. He too was tied up in a straitjacket after Freaky looked at him from the shoulder downwards. But would could be made out straight away from the man was that he looked as pale and ill as death itself. Freakshow cocked his head at the well-built but ill-looking Who, "And whom might you be?"

"I'm your next cell neighbour." The Who responded in an uncaring way, setting himself down on the padded floor in his cell in front of the window. "Welcome to the neighbourhood, Mr. Freakshow."

Freakshow grinned with some pride, "You have heard of me."

The purple Who nodded in confirmation. "Yes, everyone in this entire asylum has heard of what you and your band of murderous merry men have been up to." He chuckled slightly in an all most light-hearted way. "The bank robbery, the Whoville Express Crash, the Science Gala! That is some serious shit you have got going on there!"

"It is nice to meet someone who appreciates my work." Freakshow, even when he used to be Jojo McDodd had enjoyed being complimented. It made him feel a little embarrassed, yet warm inside. "But I must ask..." he paused a second, before looking oddly at the rugged purple Who. "...what is your name, good sir?"

"Rodgerick Terwayne...Mr. Freakshow." The purple Who in the straitjacket replied, emphasising both parts of his name so to make sure that both Freakshow and Green Lilith would not forget.

Freaky had heard that name from somewhere before and after a moment, his eyes perked up and the psycho grinned at his inmate. "Rodgerick...Terwayne. Rodgerick Terwayne! I've heard of you before! You...you're that nutcase hitman that used to be under Devon's payroll."

"Then you have heard correct." The criminal mental patient confirmed, looking positively angered by the mere name of his former Boss. _"I _heard what you did to the little green git. If I were in the same room as you and out of this here jacket, I would give you a bone-crushing hug!"

"I'm sure you would." Freakshow crossed one leg over the other in a relaxed fashion as he and Green Lilith continued to look at this stranger. "You know, I have all ways been looking forward to meeting you, Mr. Terwayne. I just wish it didn't have to be in the nut house." He clicked his tongue. "When you got out, I might have considered rehiring you back into the organisation."

Just then, Green Lilith blurted out loudly and thoughtlessly, "Say, Terwayne, did ya really do it?!"

Freakshow gave his mistress a fierce glare in annoyance, "Lilith! What did I tell you about manners, for Pete's sake?!"

But still, Terwayne answered nonchalantly in a not minding sort of way. "Yes...I did do it. But that doesn't mean I didn't hold it against Yexley for setting me up and getting me incarcerated in this cold, padded nightmare. I've been in here for three years because of that little bastard." His eyes narrowed and the mysterious Who looked away sternly across his large padded white cell. "Do not get me wrong, I am glad you slaughtered him like the dog he was, but I would not have minded crushing his neck with my own bare hands."

"He turned you in because he obviously saw you as a threat, Rodger." Freakshow told the former hitman as a matter of fact. It was not clear to Terwayne because he was clouded by anger and spite, but the psycho could see it clearly like looking out a window. "Let's just look at it: you are an A-grade nutboy and old Devon knew it. Now, I'm not saying Devon was all right in the head myself, but he was sure sane enough to know that you would turn against him eventually. But me..." he giggled. "I knew you and I could have gotten along just great. It takes a nutcase to understand another nutcase."

Terwayne turned his head back in the direction of Freakshow, his cold all most pupiless eyes studying the deformed Who's twisted face. "...crazy, or nutcase as you call it is all a matter of opinion." Closing his eyes and taking in great inhalation of the bone-chilling air, the purple Who asked Freakshow slowly and seriously, "...what time is the breakout?"

Freakshow and Green Lilith looked at each other with seemingly confused looks and then back at Terwayne. The deranged Who arched his brow and asked the Who, "Breakout...? I'm sorry, what breakout are you talking about, Rodger? I've just met you and ya think I've got this master plan to breakout?"

"Don't act like an idiot, I've read all about you in the newspapers and watched you on that old hunk of junk here they call a television." Terwayne informed his new fellow inmate, frowning darkly. "I know you're type. You're the one who's all ways got a plan and I'm sure you're all set to pull one off pretty damn soon." He shuffled down against the padded wall and licked his tongue against his front grotted yellow teeth. "So I'll ask you again...what time is the breakout?"

"Ha, ha, ha, ha! You're smarter than you look, Rodger!" Freakshow had to admit that all though this Who was only a vicious hitman, he was a right intelligent one at that. "Okay, okay, you've seen right through me. I've got my little plan and-" He stopped in midsentence and asked Terwayne in somewhat of a curious way, "Hey, what time is it?"

The hitman looked up and began mulling it over. He had been in this asylum for three years now and all most had every time and detail of the schedule perfectly memorized. "Well, judging that the last time I was allowed outside of this cell with all the other criminal wackos was 10:00 PM and there is a tone every time a half hour...I'd say nearing 1:30. Why?"

Leaning the most damaged side of his face against his window opposite Green Lilith's, Freakshow snickered while Lilith rubbed her cheek against the window as if nuzzling her boyfriend. "Hmm, because a short moment after 1:30 AM, say 1:35, utter chaos is gonna be unleashed back into Whoville like a wild fire...!"

"Why not dead on the half hour?" Terwayne raised his brow and looked at psycho suspiciously. "Something holding ya back?"

Freakshow frowned crossly and lowered his shoulders, snapping in a tired grouchy tone, "Let's see...uh, gee, ohh, ahh, I'm tired like Hell! I could use five or so minutes to just relax!" He then wiggled his straitjacketed body across the padded floor so that the back of his head rested against the window. He made himself comfortable and let out a loud low yawn as he closed his heavy eyelids, "Wake me up in around five minutes..." The homicidal Who muttered to himself slightly, while Green Lilith leaned against the window next to him, trying to catch some rest of her own.

"Christ..." Terwayne grumbled to himself, now staring blankly down his cell at the white padding on the wall. "...teenagers." He then began edging over to the second small glass window to his opposite. Rodgerick had better spread the word that he and his fellow inmates would no longer be residing within this madhouse for much longer...

* * *

Meanwhile, at the penthouse where Horton and co were currently residing in, Vlad Vladikoff stood on top of the marble kitchen counter. He could not sleep after all that had happened over the last five hours or so, who could? So instead, Vlad was now experimenting by pouring himself a glass of a very dark red wine to calm himself. He had heard fancy talk of this drink from the Whos at the Science Gala, so no harm in giving it a try, right? But the eagle had to be a bit careful though; it was not easy to pour yourself a beverage with lanky bony talons. It was especially not all that easy since he still had some bandages tied around his large black-feathered wings and on the crown of his head.

Presumably everyone else in the penthouse was fast asleep, the black-bottom eagle could even hear Horton's loud ridiculous snoring even from where he was standing in the kitchen. It all most made Vlad laugh really, someone could have said that maybe sleeping in a far off cave was a smart move of Vlad. _"Lord, that elephant sure makes a lot of noise even when he is not awake. I can't help but wonder how all the other Noolians put up with-" _But his train of thought was cut off when he felt something wet run down his talons. Vlad looked down and saw that his glass was overflowing with wine and spreading out onto the counter. "Oh, dear God...!"

The eagle quickly placed the now half-bottle of wine back upright and grabbed a small kitchen towel with one claw. "I should take more care of what I'm doing!" He then did as best as he could with his bone-like talons to mope up the puddle on the counter around the glass. "Dear, oh dear, oh dear..." Soon, he had moped up all the wine on the counter and began wiping his sharp talons, while making sure not to tear the towel with them in the process. "There we go." Vlad said, next wiping the side of the wine glass before flinging it behind him into the laundry basket.

Now that he had cleaned up his little mess, the black-bottom eagle slowly and carefully wrapped his talons around the wine glass and lifted it up to his beak. Vlad now had to be extremely careful for the glass not to slip out of his grip and smash onto the counter, causing an even bigger mess than before. "Steady...steady..." He opened his beak and rested the rim of the glass to the edge of his beak's mandible. "...steady..." Vlad tilted the steam of the wine glass upwards, ready to let it easily slide down his beak, down into his gullet...

"...Vlad?"

Vlad Vladikoff's eyes shooting open, the black-bottom eagle chocked on the wine he was in the process of drinking. "Wha-? Gah!" He began coughing the wine up and began wheezing. During so, the wine glass slipped out from his talon grip, falling onto the counter. _Smash! _Vlad slammed his eyes shut and cringed at the noise of the glass shattering on the smooth marble surface. Feeling faint traces of shattered glass fly onto his talons and some wine splatter onto his wings and legs, the black-bottomed eagle slowly looked over his hunched shoulder. "What is it that you want?"

Standing there in the doorway of the small kitchen were Dr. Mary Lou Larue and Kangaroo. They too cringed at the mess they had indirectly caused on the kitchen counter. Dr. Larue spoke up again, a little uneasily because of what they had just caused unintentionally, "You...you need any help with that?"

Vlad sighed exasperatedly, looking down at the mess of wine and glass shards in between his talons. "Okay, okay. You might as well grab a sponge, brush and dust pan." The two females got to work and helped the black-bottom eagle clean up the mess. The purple marsupial grabbed a wet sponge from the side of the sink and began dabbing up the puddle of wine. Dr. Larue took brush and swept the sharp pieces of thin glass with care into the dust pan, which Vlad was holding onto. "Thanks..." was all that Vlad muttered as he slid the dust pan of shattered glass into the waste disposal unit.

Kangaroo rubbed the back of her head, feeling unnerved by the awkward silence between them and the eagle. She and Larue had come to see Vlad for a specific reason of course, they were just unsure of what to say exactly. Finally, Kangaroo cleared her throat, catching Vlad's attention. "Vlad...listen...about what happened earlier..."

Balling up his sharp talons, Vlad exclaimed, facing away from the marsupial and scientist, **"I know! **I know! I was out of line! How many times do you plan on reminding me?!" The eagle had heard from everyone else that night; what he did in the interrogation room had crossed the line and was enough to even classify _him _as a wacko. You could not blame them though; Vlad had savagely beaten the living crap out of Freakshow like a punching bag. A lot of them, with the exception of a few like Kangaroo and Larue had not taken into full consideration the large carnivorous bird's motives. They just took notice of when he smashed a glass jug full of water against Freakshow's head and threw the latter across the air, crashing into the interrogation room window.

"No, It's not that." Larue said defensively, putting her hands up. "Trust us, we're not hear to yell, scold or anything like that."

"Then that will be the first this morning." The eagle traced his talons gently down his scuffed up and scarred beak. "Then why have you come to see me?"

Larue brushed down on her bright purple getup and told the large Russian bird very nervously, "Well, it _is _about that incident a few hours ago, but _not_of when you assualted McDodd." She said the last seven words quickly before Vlad could react angrily or violently. "It's about what he said that set you off. He said something about...your father."

Those last two words send a icy chill down Vlad's arched spine. _Father. _Larue had just said the one word that the black-bottom eagle hated most of all in both the worlds of Nool and Whoville. _Father. _Vlad kept his head head hung low in front of his chest, not looking behind at the two. "My...Father?"

"Yes, you're father." Kangaroo confirmed firmly, folding her arms and hopping forward a few steps. "Or should we call him your 'daddy'? Should we call him your 'pappa'? Or should we even call him your _daddio?!"_

**"That's enough!" **Vlad exclaimed loudly and abruptly, his feather standing up on end. Larue and Kangaroo looked taken back by the quiver and near enough fear in his voice. They way he said it sounded so...desperate and scared. "Enough of that...!" He then threw back his head and began breathing in slowly. The haunting memories of this topic were one of the things that kept him up at night.

Kangaroo looked down at her feet, ashamed with herself. She had known Vlad for most her life in the jungle of Nool, even from when she was but a young Joey and being raised by her cold and strict mother. He looked like such a harmless, innocent little Chicky back then, but now he looked like he had just crawled out from a hole he had lived in for years. Kangaroo had never really met Vlad's father in person but she had heard things of him. Bad things, that is. Like how he slaughtered that entire colony of shrews without a hint of remorse. Or worse yet, like when he kidnapped that baby ape to lure its mother into a trap so the eagle could kill them both. When grew older into an adolescent, the marsupial began to fully realise how much a sadistic, monstrous _beast _Vlad's father really was without having to even know him.

"I..." Vlad shuddered as if the temperature in the room had significantly dropped below zero degrees. He finished with a shivering voice full of anger. "I...I _hated _my father."

* * *

Far off in the Whoville prison...

_Ping. Ping. Ping._

Dr. Marving Caine sat down alone on a bench in a cold foreboding cell on a high floor of the prison. The former psychiatrist was now dressed in a large loose dark grey uniform with the I.D. tag reading '002296'. He had only been in this prison under an hour and all ready he looked as if he had spent a good ten years behind bars.

_Ping. _To pass the time, Caine was flipping a grime and dirt covered coin he had been picked up from the stone floor. It was fairly modern, around five years old that is. He caught it easily in his palm each time he flipped it. It was interesting since his mind was focusing on two other important things.

Leaning his head forward so he could look though the rustic bar door of his cell, Caine could see the circular clock attached to the stone wall of the prison corridor. 1:28 AM. Now he just had to wait for a maximum of six minutes before he did his part in the final phase of the plan.

_"But why must I wait five minutes after 1:30, sir?"_

_Freakshow turned on him angrily and pulled him down by the collar. "It is because frankly, even evil super genius' get worn out and need a moment to rest!" He poked If you're so smart, maybe you should have considered that before asking."_

_Caine just clenched his teeth and fists and groaned, "Yes, sir. Very astute, sir."_

If you asked Marvin what he honestly thought about his employer without the latter in the same room, what would he say? Most likely something along the lines of prefering to work for a both mentally and physically handicapped Who in a laundry mat. He _loathed _Freakshow with such intensity but never showed it of course. The only reason Caine stayed on to work for the psycho was because there was really no other place for the psychiatrist to go. His reputation as a scientist had been permanently tarnished and was from then on a laughing stock in the scientific community. Crime was Caine's only escape route from going into poverty and living in the gutters.

Flipping the coin one more time into air and catching it tight within his furry hand, Caine slumped over and wrapped his long arms behind his neck. He thought to himself miserably, _'Oh, why didn't I listen to mother and become a lawyer? My life as a scientist was going great, but now look at me; I'm in prison awaiting a pointless trial.' _Marvin started yanking on the hair on top of his head, he was just so frustrated with himself. When he was a young lad, Whos from all around the city said that he was destined to become a great scientist and he did. He had money, fame and respect but it was all taken away from him. It was all taken away by _her. _

"...Larue." Caine hissed like a venomous snake, narrowing his eyes and balling up his furry fists. The name alone made his blood boil. That women had single-handedly sent his progressing career flushing down the toilet. Why had he not seen it coming? Larue had been trying to undermine his work from the very begining of his life in science, or at least that was what he told himself.

Marvin and Mary met in the 3rd Grade, both having high hopes for the future as scientists; Larue in all three of scientific topics and Caine in the field of chemistry, psychological disorders and phobias. They worked their way hard through school and as students in Who U until they had graduated with their degrees. Soon, after a few years, the two found themselves as members of the faculty of Who U. There, Caine and Larue began laying the foundations of their reputations as scientists in Whoville.

Caine made the front pages of news papers and the cover of _Whoville Scientists Monthly _many times, followed closely behind by Mary Larue. Even before they became teachers at Who U, tension had started to grow between the two Whos, be it jealousy, the need to out do each other or merely because of Caine's extreme methods. It was something Larue nagged on at him for years about and soon it caused a severe rift in their relationship. Caine soon began performing near enough inwhomane experiments to study phobias by strapping paid Whos into rooms and tormenting them with spiders, snakes, anything capable of causing panic. Mary Larue drew the line when Caine shot a _gun _in a classroom full of students just to illustrate some sick point or whatever. She informed the dean of Who U with evidence related to the nature of Caine's experiments, making the Who outraged at how he had let such atrocities occur in his institution. It did not take long before Marvin Caine was told to clear out his office and the media had displayed it for the whole of Whoville to see.

It was humiliating! Marvin's promising career as Whoville's greatest psychiatrist shattered into a million pieces before his very eyes! Mary did feel a twinge of guilt for doing what she did, but it had to be done. She at least tried to apologize, but Caine was too filled with anger and spite to accept it. Before he had met back up with Larue in the gala after so many years, these were his last words to her: _"You've ruined me, Mary Lou Larue! And you'll pay! I swear to God; somehow, some way you will pay!" _

After his dismissal, Caine lost his five-star apartment and his wife, whom had been with him for 10 years left him without a second thought. It not take long before Marvin found himself turning to crime under the infamous Devin Yexley as a last resort. It was not proud nor honest work, but it was not like Caine had many other alternatives. Why did it all have to happen to him? He could have had such a great life of scientific endeavours and it all just disappeared before his very eyes. Well, no one ever said being a scientist would be easy; too bad for Marvin that it was not the same case for Larue...

Caine took another look out though the rustic bar door of his cell at the clock. 1:30 AM. It was now time to get ready. Jumping up from his bench and standing in the middle of his cell, Marvin tucked the coin into the pocket of his uniform. Next, he reached his hand into mouth, searching for something in his mouth. Finally he found it and gave it a fierce tug, while cringing his face as he knew it was going to hurt. Finally, after a few twists...

"Gah!" A small amount of blood poured out of Caine's mouth and he pulled his blood-covered hand out of his jaw. Held in his fist was a small metal object, all most the size and shape of a canine tooth with a small green button on top. "Blimey! Aggh..." He spat out the remaining blood within in his mouth onto the floor and wiped his blood-covered fist on his loose uniform, while still holding onto the object. "That was _not _a smart idea, no matter what Freakshow said!" He Marvin now held the tooth-like object up in his fist so that the green button faced up, ready for him to press down it with his thumb. Now all he had to do now was wait a few more minutes.

* * *

Vlad still sat perched on the kitchen counter, hanging his head down beneath his large greasy black feathered wings. He lifted his claw and rested it on his long, scuffed and scarred beak, taking into account every last damage, be it noticeable or faint. Mary Lou Larue and Kangaroo still stood behind the black-bottom eagle in silence, ready to take in every word he was going to say. Neither of them, especially Kangaroo had ever once asked Vlad anything about his father and he had never once brought him up. He didn't need to...

Raising his head from out from beneath his wings and keeping direction forward, Vlad spoke softly and as calm as he could, "My father...my father was not what you would call a 'pleasent' person."

"You mean he was very strict with you?" Dr. Larue asked him, with a deep hope that that was only the case and not anything too severe.

"Well, yes, he was strict with me, but not _just _strict..." His dry tongue liked the rough rim of his beak. "...he was also harsh, cold, cruel and..._violent." _He shut his eyelids tight and a vein appeared on his forehead. "Yes, especially _violent."_

Violent. Kangaroo had a very good idea what Vlad meant by the way he stressed that word. "Did your father abuse you in any way?"

Feeling his heart rate increase to a very fast rate, Vlad replied stiffly, "He...he hit me a lot." Both Larue and Kangaroo's faces scrunched up slightly at hearing that. Now they could understand why his father was something Vlad did not like talking about. "Every time I 'stepped out of line'..." The eagle balled up his talons and slammed them onto the surface of the counter. "Pow! He would strike me against them head! Even sometimes when I was just simply sitting in the corner of the cave, he would stomp up to me and _thwack! _He had the strength to hit me so hard that on a few occasions he could knock me out cold."

"What was his name?"

The large carnivorous bird had some difficulty remembering this. It had been a long time since he was last in the same area as his father. But after thinking hard, Vlad came up with closest name that he was sure was his father's. "I think it was Igor. Yes, I _think _it was eager." He answered Larue, whom had asked the question. "You have no idea how long ago it was since I last saw him. It's funny really, when you think about it."

"Okay..." Larue picked up a pen and twirled it in between her furry fingers. "Who was your mother?"

Vlad turned back and looked at the scientist, beak agape and eyes wide. "My mother? My mother, Alexandra." A whistled and looked across the kitchen into space. "Now her I find really hard to remember. I do recall her having long waving violet hair that blew in the wind whenever she flew...heh, heh." His beak formed a small smile. "That I can remember easily, but that's just about -- oh, wait! Wait! I'm remember something!" Larue and Kangaroo gave each other 'this is getting odd' looks as the eagle continued with his smile turning back into a frown. "Whenever me father would start...you know...do you know what she would do? Nothing! My own mother would just stand back and let him beat me."

Kangaroo scratched behind her ear. That was a horrible idea to consider, but it was not like she had experienced it herself firsthand. She suggested to him, "Do you think that the reason she didn't interfere was because she knew it would only make the matter worse? Surely it was not because your mother didn't care." A possibility came into mind and the marsupial questioned Vlad, "Did your father ever physically harm her as well, not just you?"

"Sure, of course he hit her as well. But that was usually when she just accidentally got in the way." Vlad explained, the painful memories flashed back into his mind like a bee sting. "I presume that's why she decided to stay out of the way whenever my father went into a rampage." He turned around and faced the two of them, exclaiming with anger, "It wasn't fair! Why did it always have to be me who suffered! Why, you two? Why?!"

"But did you really do anything that might have made him angry?" Larue did not want to believe that Vlad's own father would treat him in such a manner for barely any reason at all. "You all most make it sound it did it all for fun."

Vlad spat hard onto the kitchen tiles and snapped, "Why wouldn't he?! You have no idea what kind of sadistic carnivorous monster that fowl was!" In a fit of frustratrion, Vlad reached his talons up to his chest and swiped at it, leaving a faint scratch mark hidden underneath the feathers. Also, in the action of doing so, a couple of the large black feathers had been pulled right off straight off the bird's chest. "Argh!" Vlad had really not thought about how much that would have really hurt. He covered his eyes and ranted in vein, "Everyone in Nool feared him! The only reason he would give for hitting me was that I was constantly 'shaming' him! That I was a failure!"

"You are no failure!" Kangaroo yelled, hopping forward poking Vladikoff hard in his arched back. "You really haven't gotten out of your cave much, have you? Don't you have any idea of the number of citizens in Nool that shudder at the mention of your name?!"

The black-bottom eagle turned his head around and looked at the kangaroo icily. "And you really think that that was enough for _him?! _I couldn't kill! Do you understand? I couldn't kill a living organism even if it could save my own life!" A look strain took over his facial expression. "But good old 'daddy', he could commit massacare and sleep through the night like a sloth! He was ashamed of me..."

Kangaroo motioned to herself and retorted, "You think you are the only one here that had a bad relationship with a parent? My mother was a cold heartless bitch!" She then pointed back towards Larue. "And Larue's mother was no saint, I can tell you right now!"

"But neither of your mothers physically hit you hard, at least not like my father would!" He turned away and jumped off of the kitchen counter, walking off in the direction of the far end of the kitchen. "I-I'm not even sure if he really _was _my father by blood! We sure didn't look a lot alike! I wouldn't have been surprised if my mother hadn't mated with seven other eagles while she was still with him! No, he was no father...he was nothing but a monster!" He saw a small chair pushed out in front of the small table and squatted himself on it. Putting his large wings underneath his beak, the black-bottom eagle began reminiscing a bad memory while Kangaroo and Larue sat down next to him. "I mean...there was one time when I was very young..."

* * *

_A young chick named Vlad Vladikoff sat down within his family of three's cave inside a nest made of dead wood. He felt very cold definitely because of the haunting and intimidating environment the eagle chick was surrounded by. A lot of people say that 'there is no place like home', but those people might just think twice if they found themselves living in a place like this. Vlad could hear the drip-drop of the heavy rain water seeping down from the cracks of the cave. It was late at night and in the middle of the rainy season. No one in their right mind would be outside at this time and moment. All except Daddy..._

_Alexandra Vladikoff, Vlad's mother was perched across the damp and cold cave in silence, listening to the heavy and loud rain falling outside their home. It was odd how long it had been since young Vlad and his mother had talked since Vlad's father left the cave a while ago. She was not doing much, just tracing circles in the dust of the otherwise smooth and hard ground of the cave. It was not like they had much to talk about anyway._

_Vlad rotated in his nest, trying to find a more comforting position, but snapping a few stick of the dead wood that comprised it in the process. This faint noise echoed throughout the hollow cave, catching Alexandra's attention._

_"Huh?" She looked over to her son._

_"What is it, Mать?" The little Vlad looked up at his mother over the cave._

_"Did you say something?"_

_He just shook his head. "N-no."_

_Alexandra looked down at her feet. "Oh...never mind then." They both knew why the other felt so uneasy and odd at the time. The man of the cave would be returning very shortly. In fact, even more shortly than they thought..._

_Flap. Flap. The loud sound of heavy wings flapping made it's way into the earshot of the two birds, getting louder and louder. Little Vlad ducked down into his nest of dead wood, while Alexandra just sat as still as a statue, waiting._

_It was only a few seconds before a huge dark demonic form landed in front of the narrow opening of the cave. It was strongly silhoutted by the dark blue night sky, the terrifying lightning storm and heavy rain. The only feature of this mysterious creature was its large, piercing lime eyes that were creepy enough to send the proudest lion running. It looked around the hollow interior of where it resided and lifted its massive left claw-full of talons forward._

_When the large creature trekked down into the cave, stomping onto the dozens of dry animal bones, it or he become more visible to Vlad himself. This creature was an enormous and muscular black-bottomed eagle, much larger in size compared to the common one. Some of the feathers at the bottom of his wings were tinted dark red and purple, while the rest were as black as midnight. Across his face, going from the forehead to his cheek was a large red scar, even going over his eyelid.What looked most dangerous about him were the sharp yellow teeth lined up within his beak and the long black talons so sharp they could cut like a knife through water. The eagle appeared to have the strength of ten bulls just by a first glance and the dark presence of a flock vampire._

_Little Vlad thought to himself fearfully as the much bigger black-bottom eagle approached, 'Oтец...' Father._

_Alexandra spoke to the large eagle, being cautious to not tick him off, "Was you flight productive, Igor?"_

_Igor Vladikoff paid no attention to his wife, making that clear when he turned his arched back on her. The abnormally large carnivorous bird's view was fixed on the nervous chick in the small nest. He did not look particularly pleased with little Vlad, even angry to be honest._

_"I have meaning to talk to you..." He spoke in a very low threatening tone that made little Vlad tremble all over. Igor flicked his talons upwards, idicating Vlad to get up from the nest. "Up!" Vlad did as he was told and stood up from his little nest, his legs still shaking in anxiety. He could tell something bad would happen; the question was 'when?' _

_Still glaring at his son in a dangerous way, Igor asked his son, "What did I instruct you this morning?"_

_"The mouse?"_

_"And what did I tell you to do to the mouse?"_

_Vlad curled up his talons. "Crush him...?"_

_Igor nodded slowly and answered and held his own curled up talons to the chick. There was something was held tight withing in his grip. "That's right I did tell you that." He then opened up his talons. "But look who I found at first alive when I was out to see if the job was done." The green mouse was laying motionless in between the Igor's sharp talons. Angry, he then lugged the mouse's dead body across the cave until it hit the cold wall. "Why did you not do as I said?!"_

_"I...well, I..." Vlad was smart enough to know that whatever answer he gave his mother would not give a good result. "...I didn't want to hurt him. He didn't do anything wrong. It just didn't seem right..."_

_Coming into Vlad's face, the large black-bottom eagle yelled furiously, "It is not about what is right! It is about being what you are!" His wings spread out and covered any way for the chick to escape. "I tell you to do one thing for me, but of course you couldn't!" He swatted the chick with the back of his claw. "You are a black-bottom eagle! My son! And no son of mine will act like a worthless coward...!"_

_Quickly, Igor grabbed Vlad and pushed him onto the cold stone floor. Alexandra, knowing what was going to happen, coward back into the far corners of the cave and out of sight. Little Vlad curled up and braced himself as his father towered over him and took over his entire view._

_"You...will...never learn!" Igor raised his talons up high, casting a shadow over little Vlad's face. The young chick whimpered a little as his father's claw plummeted down like a comet, down onto his already battered beak..._

* * *

The adult Vlad Vladikoff dropped his beak onto the glass surface of the kitchen table, raising one claw to cover the back of his neck. It did not do well for his mood to bring up such memories like that. It make him feel so depressed. Mary Lou Larue and Kangaroo sat next to him, looking either shocked or sympathetic at what they had just heard. The purple marsupial put her hand on Vlad's back sadly and Larue got up from her seat and petted Vlad softly on the shoulder. Vlad might have been what the Noolians back home called a twisted maniac, but he was not even half the maniac as his Oтец...

* * *

Back at the Whoville Insane Asylum, Freakshow's eyes flashed open and to the shock of Green Lilith, who was sitting opposite him past the window, jumped up onto his feet. He looked at Rodgerick Terwayne, who was waiting patiently in his cell up against the padded wall. **"Time!"**

"Uh, I'd say 35...ish." Terwayne replied, not caring much.

"Fine with me! It's time for me to make my latest getaway!" Strangely next, Freakshow began moving his tongue around inside his mouth, as if he was looking for something. "Hmm, let's see...where is it?" His tongue finally found the very thing he was looking for. "Ah! Here we are!" Finally, along with the object he was looking for, he spat a huge was of saliva onto the padded floor.

Looking forward through their windows, Terwayne and Green Lilith saw that the small metal object on the floor, coated in saliva was the size and shape of a canine tooth with a small red button on top. Terwayne looked up Freaky, commenting, "You're a psycho, McDodd."

The blue-faced menace collapsed to the padded floor on his back and rolled across it until his face was opposite the saliva-covered object. "Call me what you want, Terwayne. I really don't care." He pointed out his long tongue. "You might say it is psychotic; I say it's genius..." He stopped halfway and gave each other them a look. "Word of the wise: make sure neither of you look up at the ceiling over for the next few minutes..."

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Whoville prison, Caine looked at the clock one last time. 1:35 AM. It was showtime. He raised the tooth-like object in his fist over his head and proclaimed loudly, "Gentlemen!" The prisoners in the cells on his floor turned their heads to look at the psychiatrist's cell. "It is time to taste freedom...!" Marvin held his thumb above the green button. "And it never tasted so...sweet!" _Click! _He pressed the button hard.

_Click! _Freakshow's tongue tapped the green button of the tooth-like object on the padded floor.

There was a long silence, until a whirring sounds made themselves heard by the inmates of the cells of the prison and the asylum. "And here...we..." Freakshow's wicked smile grew into a devilish and toothy grin. "...go!"

At first, nothing happened; just the deadly silence. But soon the inmates noticed that the lights above the cells of the prison and the asylum were flickering like mad. That was until each and every light in the cells and hallways short circuited and the bulbs blew, sending the glass shards flying. The doors that concealed all the inmates of both facilities buzzed and blew open against the opposite walls or bars as the automatics locks exploded. Next, every alarm possible in the buildings were set off, resulting in high-pitched blares and rings echoing throughout the interiors. Most importantly for those in the asylum, the locks holding their straitjackets together snapped off onto the padded floors, freeing their arms.

Pulling his arms free from his once restraining straitjacket, Freakshow climbed back up to his feet, cackling as he tried to find his balance. "Ha, ha, ha, ha! Freedom at last!" He hobbled outside his now open door, accidentally bumping into the metal door frame in the process.

When he stepped out into the hallway, Freakshow saw the other inmates of the asylum, including Green Lilith and Rodgerick Terwayne. Cracking his neck both ways, Freakshow yelled as he bolted down the hallway through the doors, letting his oversized sleeves fly around freely. "Follow me, my fellow crazies! To freedom!" He screamed one more time in a blood-curdling tone,** "FREEDOM!!"**

**"FREEDOM!" **All most all the other loonies coming out of the cells, their straitjacket locks now broken, screamed in unison. They began charging down the hallway and through the doors after Freakshow in hopes of their escape.

Terwayne, now standing alone in the empty hallway, groaned and put his hand against his door frame. The tall purple Who felt like he had a major head cold. That and he was completely exhausted to the point of dropping asleep on the spot. "I never belonged in here, that's for certain." Rodgerick rolled up his now free straitjacket sleeves, rubbed his temples and wiped off the sweat on his forehead. The second he got out of this asylum, Terwayne planned to find somewhere for him to sleep. After pushing his shoulders back tightly, the hitman stumble down the empty hallway, pushed the door open and forced himself through it. He was in no rush; who in this city would be able to prevent a entire asylum and, unknowingly to Terwayne, prison breakout at the same time...?

* * *

In the prison that was being overflown by the alarms, the guards armed with standard police pistols ran up the metal stairs. Cocking their guns, they march to the metal door imprinted _'Hallway K6' _and one grabbed hold of the door handle. But before they could open the door, it burst open with such force that it knocked some of them literally of their feet.

Screaming like a pack of wild beasts, the brutish prisoners dressed in dressed in large loose dark grey uniforms flooded out through the door, easily overpowering the guards. The prisoner's filthy rough hands grabbed the terrified guards by their uniforms and hauled them down to the floors. Despite holding ready to fire guns in their hands, the guards were too stunned by fear to shoot. All they did was scream as they were jumped by the dozens and dozens of fiendish criminals.

"Seize their guns, gentlemen!" Caine's voice exclaimed over the yells and roars of his fellow prisoners. The filthy and uncivilised thugs finished beating the daylights out of the nameless guards and swiped the pistols from their grips.

"Don't kill us! Don't kill us, man!" But the guard's plea for mercy was futile. _Bang! _He collapsed dead to the floor; his eyes ajar. This was soon the fate of the remaining guards of the group, after being savagely beaten half stripped of their uniforms.

Caine pointed down the hallway. "Let's get out of here and meet up with our comrades!" Led by the mad psychiatrist, the swarm of blood-thirsty and vengeful prisoners poured down the hallway like mad dogs, not care that they were trampling all over the dead guards' bodies as they did.

* * *

In the asylum, the Who workers dressed in white coats were being pounced on by the wild and insane inmates of the institution. It was not liked in the prison where the situation could be controlled; these were seriously mentally damaged Whos they were dealing with! There was only a small number of guards stationed within the asylum, since a lot of the patients were usually strapped down in straitjackets. But even though these guards were armed with guns, they were not exactly prepared for this.

A stammering gaurd shakily held his gun up at one of the gibbering escaped mental patients, whose bloodshot eyes twitched and saliva dripped from the edge of his mouth. "Stay, stay down! I, I mean it!" The deranged Who began approaching the scared guard in a threatening manner. "Y-you make one move and I swear to God, I'll...I'll...!"

_Thwack! _The guard collapsed onto the floor unconscious with a painful groan. The mentally ill Who looked forward and saw Freakshow wearing a guard's hat on his head and twirling a baton in his hand. He whistled in a merry tune and with his free hand, the psycho carried something heavy over his shoulder. It was a large heavy burlap sack, which Freaky then tossed onto the floor with the long baton next to the unconscious guard. "It's Jerry, right?" Freakshow asked the gibbering crazy Who, who of which nodded in response. "Good." He next stepped down and scooped up the gun next to the unconscious guard's body. "Here." The homicidal Who placed the gun firmly in his fellow wacko's hand. "Take this gun, go outside and shoot the first guy ya see."

Cackling, the mentally damaged Who named Jerry cocked the gun in his hand, ran off past Freakshow and through the nearest door. "Gah, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"

"Yeah, _he's _gonna sleep tonight." Freakshow chuckled before opening the top of the burlap sack and addressing the rest of the wackos that were busy tearing the office apart. "Everyone!" He whistled loudly, making them stop their mindless destruction and turn around to look at the livid blue Who. "Christmas has come earlier this year!" He kicked the bag over on its side, allowing guns and knives of many types to skid onto the floor. "Have a gift or two!"

Giggling madly like the Wickershams, the now former inmates of the asylum scurried over to the sack of guns and knives. They punched and kicked each other out of the way to get their filthy claws on the lethal weapons. Once they were finished, each of the nutcases carrying guns and knives darted out of the room through the nearest doors.

Freakshow watched the whole spectacle grinning calmly. He took the guard's hat off his head and spun it across the room, remarking, "Oh, you gotta love those crazies!"

An upset Green Lilith, now undressed from her straitjacket and wearing her Green catsuit walked up to her boyfriend. "Freaky, you didn't safe anything for us! I wanna gun!"

But Freaky smiled warmly and let something slip out from his long straitjacket sleeve. It was a berreta, ready to fire. "Aww, baby, don't talk like that. Of course I all ways think about you." He put the berreta in Lilith's hand. "There you go."

Lilith grinned and wrapped her arms tightly around her boyfriend. "Oh, you do care about me!" She kissed him hard on the neck and whispered into his ear. _"Hey, how about we get into one of those big, soft beds and have some fun right now?"_

"Believe me, I would love to, honey." Freakshow caressed the back of Lilith's head gently. "But I can't do that, right now. I've got a little more work to take care of first." He looked into her twisted eyes. "So I'll try and meet up with you later, say...6:00 PM at the old observatory?"

Nodding quickly, Green Lilith held the gun tightly in her hands. "Of course, Freaky baby."

"Good." Once again, Freakshow took something out of his long straitjacket. It was Green Lilith's mask. "I found this in the storage area with the guns! Here ya go! He handed it to his girlfriend, who took the mask with anticipation and pulled it over her face. "Now go and have some fun!"

"Oh, I will!" Lilith laugh loud and hard like a witch, spun on her heels and skipped out of the ravaged office. "Bye, honey-bunch!"

Now seemingly left alone to himself, Freakshow looked over his shoulder to the door way right behind him and called, "I've got two guns left, you know. Ya might wanna take your pick."

Rodgerick Terwayne stepped out from the doorway, now wearing a long black trench coat over his open straitjacket. Also, in his mouth was a cigarette; one he stole from a now dead guard in the asylum. "All right. What have you got for me?"

A gun slipped out from each of Freakshow's long sleeves. "I got these two." One was a golden desert eagle and the other a small silver snubnosed revolver. "I think you know which one you want." Terwayne did not respond, but simply walked past Freakshow, snatching the silver snubnosed revolver in the process. "Someone's a bit grabby this morning."

Still Terwayne did not respond. He just continued to make his way to the door frame leading out of the trashed office. When he was halfway out the door, Rodgerick Terwayne took one more glance back at the blue-faced menace, saying chillingly, "Thanks again for breaking me out, McDodd. Maybe we'll see each other in the future." And with that, the tall purple Who silently walked out through the door and out of Freaky's sight.

Freakshow cocked his desert eagle, smirking. "Here's hoping...ha, ha, ha, ha." Laughing lowly and sinisterly to himself, the deformed Who made his own way out of the completely demolished office. He had to meet up with Caine and some of his goons, but first he had to get changed.

* * *

Outside the prison, the front doors were kicked open so hard that they broke of their hinges. Goons charged like well-trained soldiers out of the prison building, laughing triumphantly at their escape. Some of them were covered in blood, mostly that of the guards'. A lot of them took in deep breaths of the cold air and exhaled in relief of getting some fresh air after so long. After all, some of these thugs had been in that prison for over a decade now, so being able to get a whiff of fresh air was like a freshly carved diamond to them.

"Finally!" One very large thug with a green snake tattoo along his muscular arm chuckled darkly, looking around at the buildings in front of him. "I've been waiting five years for this! And now..." He punched his fist into the palm of his other hand. "...it's payback time!"

A much shorter former prisoner grinned wickedly as well. "Whaddya say we hit first? The nearest jewellary store? Bank? I'm more in the mood for hitting some guys' home, myself." A lot of the crowd of prisoners coming out of the open entrance began chatting and debating about the first thing they should do.

The arguing between the many escaped prisoner went on for a moment or so before a loud whistle rang out, getting their attention. "Gentlemen!" They stopped and looked to their right. Caine was standing there, his hand in his prison uniform pockets. "Now those are all good ideas. Banks, stores, houses, all of it sounds perfect." He walked forward. "But what you need, my good men are good equipment to pull all this hullabaloo off. I can help you with that."

Doubtful, the very large thug walked up to Caine in an opposing manner. "Oh, yeah? What can _you _do for us, Caine?"

With a sneer, Marvin Caine pulled something out of his pocket and tossed it to the thug, who caught it in his huge hands. It was a revolver. "How'd you get this?"

Caine snapped his fingers and several figures walked out from the shadows behind him. They were all dressed up in black uniforms and bowler hats and were each carrying a large machine gun. Only the one in front of them took off his hat, revealing himself to be none other than Claude. Marvin Caine then continued, "I got good connections, I'll tell you that. Ya see, there is actually a Hell of a lot more where that comes from." He motioned his arm in another direction as if giving the thugs direction. "I can get you more than you'll know what to do with if you would just follow me."

The mob of brutal goons gave each other odd looks before the large thug looked down at Caine, saying, "All right, Doc, show us the way." He grabbed the psychiatrist by the uniform and held him up. "But you better disappoint, or else..."

Instead of recoiling in fear, Caine shrugged and said reassuringly, "Heh, heh. My good sir, you will not be disappointed. Because..." He leaned forward and met eye-to-eye with the large thug. "...if you thought last night with the gala was crazy then..."

* * *

"...you have seen _nothing _yet, Whoville." Freakshow stood in front of the shattered window of the floor he stood in the asylum. The deranged homicidal Who was once again dressed up in his trademark attire, including his bowler hat and a black polished cane he picked up in the storage room. He looked out the large hole in between the shards left attached to the window frame. Freakshow could see hundreds of the asylum inmates he had freed running out into the streets. It would not be long now.

Freaky leaned against his long cane and stated, holding the tooth-like object in his hand "It won't be long now. This plan has gone off without a hitch." He then held the little device up to his view and flicked it out the window. "I just love toys like those. They just don't make them like they used to." The psycho took something out of his blazer pocket: a silver ornate pocket watch. After taking a peek at the time, Freakshow spun on his heels and strolled over to the door. "Oh, yeah, that's right. Cain and co. I guess all I've got is a little more _personal _business to take care of." The more he thought about it, the more this twisted maniac began laughing louder and harder. "Work is done, so it's time for some fun! **Huahahahahahahaha!! HUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!"**

Unfortunately for the citizens of Whoville, Freakshow and Caine were dead right. Last night was crazy all right, but this morning was going to be the dawn of a new age in the city of Whoville. An age...of pure madness!

* * *

**(A/N) And I will end it there! So now you have just witnessed the only reason why Freakshow was caught in the first place. The jailbreak of the century! Also, just in case anyone is wondering; the devices Freakshow and Caine used overridded the electrical systems within the buildings, thus destroying the security systems. But I'm sure you all had a good idea of that all ready.**

**Now the part concerning Vlad's past I have to say was one of my favourite scenes in this chapter. It relates to severe child abuse, which I know is a very sensitive subject. Thus, I took advice from my good friend 123qaz and did not go **_**too **_**far into detail in the flashback.**

**Anyway, in the next chapter, Freakshow's grand master plan reaches the pinnacle of its terror on the once peaceful city known as Whoville. The psycho himself during this will taking care of some personal matters just for kicks. But also in the next chapter, out of the pit of despair, one character will finally show Whoville the hero he was born to be. This story is reaching its climax! Read and Review!**


	13. Chapter Twelve: Whoville needs a hero

**(A/N) All right, everyone, I am back with chapter twelve. Now, this chapter is where Freakshow's plan spreads discord and chaos throughout Whoville to the point of total anarchy. But fortunately, out of the darkness, a new hero shall rise. A hero that no one in Whoville would have suspected. Read on see for yourselves.**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

**Whoville needs a hero**

_Brrrrrrrriiiiiiiingg!!_

The telephone in the penthouse rang wildly, piercing the silence of the living room. In the kitchen, Larue looked over her shoulder and said to both Vlad and Kangaroo, "I'll go and get that. I'll be right back." She then stood up and walked out of the kitchen quietly as to not wake up anyone else in the apartment.

Vlad and Kangaroo were now left alone in the kitchen to themselves, sitting down at the table. Poor Vlad looked like he had just aged 100 years on the spot and all Kangaroo could do was look at him with sympathy. The marsupial had no idea her eagle friend would have had such a troublesome past. Yes, she all ready knew that he must have had some bad background to make him the dark, brooding hermit he was, but never imagined it like that. Behind that menacing façade, Vlad was just an ordinary guy whose personality and entire character was moulded and twisted by his cruel father.

Rubbing his beak with his greasy black wings, Vlad moaned sadly, "When my father mysteriously disappeared when I was in my teenage years, I was left alone with my mother. Not long after that, she passed away in her asleep." He looked up at the light hanging above him from the ceiling, his wing still placed under his mandible. "I can't remember what it was that took her down; she never was a well woman in health."

"Then what happened to you?" Kangaroo asked him, leaning forward and trying to look into

"Well, after my mother's passing, it was basically just me from then on." Vlad rolled his eyes and used the feathers on his wing to rub the top of his head. "I have relatives who visit every once in a while." He chuckled slightly. "My cousin Boris is a real card. Why, just last year during the holidays, we went out at night at feasted away that group of dead armadillos." Vlad then laughed out loud a bit. "Those sorry mammals must have drunk some seriously tainted water."

Kangaroo had to laugh a bit at that. "That incident was something that all those concerned would want to forget."

The black-bottom eagle continued, his temporary smile disappearing and a depressed frown replacing it. "But other than those occasional visits, I was pretty much alone from then on into my adulthood. I've lead a lonely life longer than anyone else in Nool."

"You would've thought that your live might've turned out better." Kangaroo said confused, leaning her hand on her shoulder. "I mean, after your father disappeared, surely you would be free to make your own life decisions."

"I tried to do that. God Lord, I tried so hard to do that...but..." Vlad appeared greatly ashamed of himself at the moment. "...I just couldn't. I began having dreams of my father mocking and taunting me; saying how I was a failure and would never amount to being a true eagle." One of Vlad's wings balled up in anger, both at his father and himself. "The only way to make them stop was to fulfil his wishes and go at all lengths to become the menacing creature he was." His wing began to cramp up and so he released it, relieving the faint pain. "Sometimes at night, I ponder: if my father is still alive out somewhere is Nool and has heard of me, will he be at least satisfied?" Vlad looked back at Kangaroo in an all most desperate manner. "What, what do you think?"

Kangaroo rubbed the side of her head with her index finger before she answered flatly, "Well, Vlad, does it really matter what anyone else thinks? Isn't it really what you think on it?" She rolled her eyes and put her hands together. "Let's face it, Vlad: you have become a slave to your father's expectations. There's no point denying it."

Vlad huffed and tapped hard onto the table with his talons. "I know I have, but I just couldn't keep rejecting the undeniable truth." He began waving his claw about as he remembered his father's harsh accusations. "My father was right that I would never amount to being a true eagle. I could never _kill _anything, Kangaroo. Not even a little mouse." The eagle began to look frantic and sweat poured down his face. "What does that say about me?!"

"Hey, it actually makes you sound like a better person." Kangaroo told the eagle reassuringly. "A lot of eagles like your father are giving your species a negative social appearance."

"I agree with you, but it is not like that can be changed, can it?" Vlad huffed crossly, turning away from her. Kangaroo obviously did not understand how it was not exactly an option for the black-bottom eagle's of Nool to be ferocious and demonic towards others. "It's all most traditional for every one of us to slaughter, dominate and terrify. Mind you, I actually didn't mind it when my father started me off, but then I realised the reality of it all. All the other Noolian residents hate us!"

"And do you really want that?"

"Of course not!"

The large purple marsupial swatted the black-bottom eagle around the head sharply, snapping in a frustrated way, "Then you've got to stop acting the way your father wanted you to be! Can't you see, Vlad...?" Her tone then turned softer. "You can be the eagle that's different from all the others. You can be the first one to have friends that aren't complete vicious carnivores." She stood up from her chair, towered over Vlad and pointed directly at him in between the large bird's eyes, stating strongly, "It's time for you to asking yourself the important questions, Vlad!"

"Like?!"

Kangaroo put her finger to her chin and put on the fake position of thinking. "Like, I dunno...what you, yourself actually want to be in life! What you want people to really think of you as a person! _Those _of questions, Vlad!" Talking sense into this fowl was all most like talking to a brick wall.

"Well, what do you want me to do, Kangaroo?!" Vlad snapped back angrily, getting up from his chair and facing the marsupial. "Dress up in tights and fight against Freakshow like the Bat Who against the Jester?! Hey, maybe I can ride the Whomobile out across the city and use it to run him over!"

Kangaroo looked at Vlad with a 'are you some kinda weirdo?' look and asked him, "Who or what the Hell are you talking about?"

The large carnivorous bird then came to realisation of what he had just said. He gulped and folded his wings across, looking down at the floor. "Oh, the Batwho and the Jester. You see, they're...they're..." He traced circles onto the kitchen tiles and murmured, only just able to heard from Kangaroo, "...famous comic book characters in Whoville. I've read a through comic books during my time here."

Scratching the purple hair on top of her hair, the kangaroo sighed tiredly, "And here I thought Horton was the only one in Nool that acted like a big child."

"That's baldercrap! There's nothing wrong with taking an interest in the things the youth like." Vlad rebuked uptightly to his friend. "Seriously, what kind of childhood did you have?" He was true. Kangaroo had grown up too fast, at least to a lot of the other parents when the two were young. "Did your mother make you live underground in a burrow? Because I seriously wouldn't be surprised if that was the case!"

"My mother only kept me sheltered because she cared!"

"Oh, pfft! Like you did with Rudy?! Poor kid's been living in your pouch for most of his life until over half a year ago!"

Insulted, Kangaroo board in on the eagle, their foreheads touching and growled dangerously, "You've got some real nerve, Vladikoff!" She shoved him hard in the shoulder. "You're just jealous that my mother was actually there for me! And you can't help but feel even more bitter that I'm there to support Rudy!"

Now it was Vlad's turn to shove back at her. "Jealous?! So _I'm _the one with 'nerve', am I?!" Their eyes met and two felt like they could tear right through each other right now. "Listen, my parents might not have been there for me as much yours were, but that doesn't mean I haven't developed character. Believe me..." He jumped up onto his chair and did a theatrical pose. "...I have character and an acting talent to boot!"

Sarcastically, the purple marsupial snorted, throwing her head back. "Yeah, like your performance in last year's production in Nool. Greeaat acting!"

"You wanna make something of it, pouchy?!" Vlad's talons clenched tightly and his shoulders hunched up in anger.

Cracking her knuckles and narrowing her eyebrows, Kangaroo replied in a far more dark and threatening tone. "You really don't want to try me, bird brain! I've got enough lower body strength to kick you straight into next week!"

"Uh...guys?"

In their current state of anger and aggravation, Vlad Vladikoff and Kangaroo were at the very edge of their patience. They both whirled around to look at the person whom was standing in the doorway, yelling furiously and red in their faces. **"WHAT?!"**

Horton stood in front of the doorway, nervously sweating bullets. Larue was also standing there right behind the large elephant, poking her head out slightly. It looked like they came into the kitchen at one of the worst times. "Uh, well, you see..."

"Come on, spit it out, man!" Vlad rolled his eyes impatiently. He was in a very bad mood in the moment and was in no mood to wait. "We haven't got all day!"

"You see, we just got this phone call from Commissioner Martyn..." Horton put his very stubby toes together and tapped them anxiously.

Kangaroo scoffed, placing her hands on her large hips, "Oh, boy, what's happen this time? I'm telling you, every time we get a call from him or even Ned, it's all ways bad news." She gave Vlad a look. "You do agree with me right?" When Vlad nodded, she then looked back at Horton and Larue, "Well, anyway, what's the situation?"

Horton slipped back behind Larue, deciding to give him the burden of delivering the bad news. She reluctantly stepped forward and looked at the two now very impatient Noolians before her. The scientist gulped a bit and then answered shakily, "There's been this little _accident _at the asylum and prison where Jojo and his goons were sent and-"

However, Vlad looked down and put his wing up to her, cutting her off. After taking in a breath and exhaling, the black-bottom eagle raised his head and asked the Who and large elephant plainly, "Freakshow...he's escaped from the nuthouse...hasn't he?"

"Yes." was Horton and Larue's cringed reply.

"And his goons and the other crooks in the prison have broken out too, right?"

Horton nodded, answering still just as worried as before. "Right."

Despite appearing very calm, Vlad was actually hiding away a blazing inferno beneath. He paced back and forth down the short gap between the kitchen counter and the table, while asking a third question, "And so if I'm correct to assume Freaky's escaped with a few psychos at his side, Whoville is about to be torn apart by a swarm of homicidal lunatics, true?"

"There's...no assumption about it."

Now Vlad's eye was twitching as a painfully forced grin formed on his beak. "I see." His wings balled up so tightly that an agonizing cramp was inevitable, yet the eagle stood there shaking. He walked over to the corner, released and smoothed his wings out across the marble surface, while whistling a little tune.

"Vlad?"

The eagle did not respond to Larue. Instead, he closed his eyes, took in another deep breath and looked up to the ceiling. "Kangaroo...what word have I not all ready used for Freakshow...?"

Kangaroo answered, shrugging, "Well, you've all most used every swear I've ever heard..." She snapped her fingers. "But I'm quite sure you haven't used the S.O.B. word yet..."

At first, Vlad actually smiled at the purple marsupial, saying, "Okay, thank you." Then the eagle paused and closed his eyes, silent. He gathered all the anger and fury festering deep inside him, making his body flinch and the feathers stand so far on end they could fall right off. Finally, after a brief moment of silence, Vlad screamed so loudly the window shook on it's hinges...

**"THAT...THAT...SON OF A...THAT SON OF A BI-!!"**

* * *

Vlad profanity was so loud that not only did it shake the windows, it could be heard seven floors beneath the penthouse, waking up half the Who residents that were trying to get some sleep! The black-bottom had some seriously powerful lungs on him. One of the resident Whos that was awoken by the carnivorous bird's scream sat up on his bed with a jolt, looking slightly shocked. He groaned groggily, resting one side of his head in the palm of his head, his bloodshot eyes darting up at the ceiling. "Sounds like someone up there hasn't had an easy night." He closed his eyes and slammed his back down onto his bed, while letting out a low painful moan. The poor guy did not think he was going to be getting any decent sleep for the rest of that morning. But he had better; because this was going to be one dawn of Whoville that every Who would want to sleep through...

* * *

**"Attack!" **A large prisoner thundered, pulling out his heavy machine gun and firing it up into the sky. He and swarm on formerly incarcerated Whos dressed in grey stormed down the streets of Whoville towards the ones in dark blue armour or heavy coats.

Vibrant orange fire illuminated the sky dark red and a thick filthy smog covered up the stars and overhead police choppers. Gunfire all most deafened the blood-curdling screams echoing against in between the tall buildings. Cars had been overturned onto their roods, windows of nearby buildings smashed and some fire hydrants were spewing water at full force into Whos on either side of the conflict, knocking them off of their feet. Every police and S.W.A.T. officer had been called in from their sleep to the city to handle this sudden violent outbreak in the streets. None of them were prepared for something dangerous of this magnitude. Nearly every single convicted criminal was storming throughout Whoville in a blood-thirsty mob and to make matters worse; they were all armed with at least either a gun or a knife, some with both! That was all thanks to Dr. Marvin Caine, Claude and the other selected goons of Freakshow that lead the criminals to the storage area where a Hell of a lot of Freaky's "little toys" where being kept. For those thugs, getting their weapons was like a bunch of kids in a candy store.

But it was not just brutish prison escapees that were running amuck in the once peaceful town. The criminally insane former inmates of the asylum were scattered around Whoville, all armed and dangerous, courtesy of Freakshow himself. It was a small group of Whos going up against both an army of criminals _and _lunatics. One could figure right away that the S.W.A.T. and police officer felt like cats on blazing hot bricks.

"Duck!" Lt. Knox yelled loudly as he and a couple of other police officers put their hands behind their heads and dropped to the ground. They could only just avoid the bullets firing over their heads. Once the barricade of overhead bullets ended, Knox immediately rose to one knee and fired his pistol a number of times in the direction of the opposing gunmen. "This place is a freakin' death trap!"

One of Lt. Knox's fellow officers kneeled up next to the Lieutenant and began firing at the advancing convicts beside him. "No, ya think!!" He yelled sarcastically, while narrowly dodging a bullet himself. "Criminey, that was close!"

Lt. Knox narrowed his eyes fired his pistol directly forward at a knife-wielding convict, striking him directly in the chest. Chocking in pain, the convict grabbed his chest and fell onto his back, dropping the knife as well. He was obviously dead. With this opportunity, Knox signalled his fellow officers to follow him, "Fall back! Come on!" He and the other officers got onto their feet ran as fast as they could back to safety.

Running to a safe point inside one of the alleyways, Lt. Knox took his communicator out of his pocket and spoke into it, while aiming his gun outwards just in case any thugs attacked. "Commissioner! Commissioner Martyn, come in! Kent!"

_"Arnold! What is it?" _Commissioner Martyn's voice yelled back through the communicator.

"Kent, we need reinforcements here in the city on the double! Cops in cars! S.W.A.T on horseback! Anything! Anything that's packin' heat!"

Commissioner Martyn replied in frustration and disbelieve through the communicator, _"Are you kidding me, Arnold?! We've sent out as many S.W.A.T. officers and cops as we can! I mean, how many more could you need?!" _

_Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! _Some rapid bullets skidded across the edge of the wall Knox was hiding behind, making the latter jump back in sudden fright.

"What the Hell! H-hold on, Kent!" Looking forward, Lt. Knox saw a derranged convict with a crazed look in his eyes, towing a shot gun in his hands and approaching with the intention to kill. Acting instinctively, Lt. Knox raised his firing arm and blasted at the criminal with such accuracy that it struck him across the face. The former prisoner grabbed his face and collapsed to the floor, while dropping the shot gun in the process. Turning to his fellow officers, Lt. Knox signalled them to move in on the temporarily incapacitated convict and book him. The gruff Lieutenant yelled back into his communicator to Commissioner Martyn, while the other officers carried out their task. "I know, but this isn't your everyday difficult police situation, Kent! We've got a whole army of thugs, crooks, murderers, rapists, the whole shebang!" He took a quick surveillance of the chaos going on around him. "Right now, we've stationed a perimeter around the business district and are doing our best to contain them within the area. But we're going need some backup if we're to have any hope in taking these creeps down!"

_"All right! All right! I'll try and send as many S.W.A.T. and cops into the city as I can!" _Commissioner Kent Martyn told his fellow law enforcer over the communicator aggravated. _"But you've got to hold up longer because a lot of those cops you're asking for are trying to track down those psychos Freakshow's just released! Remember?!"_

Lt. Knox's teeth grinded together in white hot anger. He muttered to himself seethingly, "Oh, when I get my hands on that little..." The cop then spoke back to his boss, saying, "Okay, I'll have my men try and push the crooks back in time for those reinforcements. Where do you want me to meet up with you and the others?"

Commissioner Martyn paused before he answered, _"I'll meet up with you in the underground storage area. Appoint the next highest in rank in charge and meet me down there in 15 minutes! See you there?"_

"I'll see you there!" Lt. Knox agreed before switching his communicator off and turning his attention to the female officer standing behind him. "Cortez! You're in charge! Order the others to press forward against those thugs!" He ran off down the hallway past her before the officer known as Cortez could answer. When Knox had turned a corner to the right, Cortez took out a megaphone and addressed the police officers around her. _"All right, everybody! Move in! We're pressing forward! Move! Move! Move!"_

Yelling with might, the police officer and S.W.A.T. teams charged forward with their guns firing wildly. The escaped prisoners stormed right into the large group of law enforcers, attacking them like wild rabid animals; even going as far as using their bare hands if they had dropped their weapons. If things were not chaotic enough before, this was total carnage!

**"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!" **Riding in through the crowd of Whos on a familiar red motorbike at lightning speed, a female Who with green flowing hair cackled maniacally. Green Lilith let go of the handles, took out a handheld flamethrower and blasted aimlessly in the direction of anyone in her sights; be they on her side or not. This here was just for sadistic fun. Pulling back on her motorbike's handles, the front wheel lifted up high and Lilith screeched as fire from the thrower spewed in the air, **"Feel the burn, everyone! Hee, hee, hoo, ha, ha!!" **The mentally derranged teenage Who pushed her front wheel forward back onto the road, riding back through the burning city streets. She giggled to herself quietly, "...oh, I love my job! Heh, heh."

* * *

Meanwhile, up in the parking lot building, everything was quiet and covered in darkness. Nothing could be seen or heard in the cold dark platforms filled with cars, all except for one thing. A large stout and moustached blue Who was walking fast along the rows of multicoloured cars on the 4th floor. He was casually dressed up in a brown waistcoat, white long-sleeved shirt and a black tie. He looked rather uneasy at the moment in time and seemed to be sweating slightly in anxiety. Someone could identify his worry by the way he walked and frequently looked around to see if someone was watching him.

After a short moment of search, the stout blue Who found the dark blue sedan car he was searching for. He began mumbling something under his breath as he put his hand into his pocket and searched for something inside it. This guy sure picked the wrong time of the morning to spend an hour at the bar. But he needed a nice tall glass of cider calm himself after what had happened at the gala a few hours ago. However, he sure knew it was time to splint the joint after hearing the calamity breaking out outside in the city.

Eventually, the Who found the object he was looking for in his pocket. His car keys. "Ah, here we go." He reached out his hand to the handle and was about to unlock the driver's door...

"Are you going somewhere, Don boy?"

The sudden abrupt voice took the stout blue Who, supposedly named Don by surprise. He spun around and looked down into the darkness from where the menacing voice had come from. Most of the lights must have broken down, leaving over half of the floors in darkness; the one Don was standing in included of course.

"Hello? Who is there?" Don asked with worriedly to what appeared to be no one. That chilling stern voice definitely indicated he was not alone.

"Just me, Donny. Who else?" The source of the voice then made itself visible as the speaker moved forward into Don's view. Standing there, now wearing a stolen black trench coat and holding a silver snub-nosed revolver...was Rodgerick Terwayne.

Done gasped in fear, dropping his car keys to the ground. "Terwayne! I-It's you! I-I-I thought..."

Terwayne cut him off loudly, taking a few more steps forward, while having his gun at the ready. "You thought what, Don?! You thought that I would still be locked up in the lunatic asylum even after Freakshow made his breakout?" He then shook his head slowly and corrected Don. "No, no, no. It wasn't just all those brutes and thugs McDodd set free. He took all of us crazies as well and got us out of those goddamn straitjackets." Terwayne spat on the ground is anger. "Lord, I hate those things!"

The blue stout Who knew why Terwayne was here and armed. Don began pleading with the tall purple Who, "Look, Terwayne, please hear me out. I...I was only doing my job those years ago. I mean, the jury had found you guilty, It was my position as judge to give out the suitable sentence."

"Oh, yes, I get it." Terwayne rebuked sarcastically, toying with his snub-nosed revolver in the air. "Life in a lunatic asylum until deemed fit to re-enter society." His expression instantly turned back to that of angry. "You sent me straight to years of misery and torment in that nuthouse, Don!"

"But I'm not even a judge anymore. I retired a just few months ago." Don did his best to plead his case before this armed yet somewhat calmed lunatic, but knowing full well that it was futile. "I can't do anything else to you. I don't have the power to put you back in the asylum again. Why don't we let bygones be bygones and all that?"

_Click. _Don nearly screamed at hearing the sound of Terwayne cocking his gun.The poor stout blue Who just stood rigidly, putting his hands up in the air. Don was so scared at the moment he could have had a heart attack. Rodgerick Terwayne spoke stonily, "You are asking to put aside years of undeserved incarceration in a building filled with psychos. Can't you understand?! Compared to that asylum, prison would have been a blessing."

Don repeated at the verge breaking down into a fit, "I-I was only my...job." An idea came into his mind and so he added quickly and excitedly, "And not to forget; it is a great possibility Devon Yexley was the one who finked you out in the first place and-"

"Yes and he's dead!" Terwayne cut off angrily, pointing his snub-nosed revolver forward at the former judge. "I can't take my revenge on a dead guy, now can I?" His eyes narrowed down to slits that he could make his aim at Don's chest absolutely accurate, so he would fire exactly where the Who's heart would be. "You're the only git I've got the personal right to kill!"

The former Whoville judge collapsed to his knees, begging hysterically and putting his hands together in a position of prayer. "Terwayne, please! Is there nothing I can say or do that will make things between us any less critical?" Don would do anything to make things square between him and Terwayne so that the former judge could then actually enjoy his retirement.

At the moment, it looked as if Terwayne was going to blast the former judge's head off, but he then lowered his snub-nose and said in a less threatening manner, "Well...I suppose that pledging my entire life to revenge and mindless bloodshed is not going to make me appear any more sane." He flicked the firing end of his gun a few times and told Don plainly. "Okay, tell you what. I shall let you go this one time _only. _However..." He raised his gun once more; this time in the direction of Don's head. "...you might want to lay low for a while. Because if I happen to see your moustached face in Whoville again, I will not hesitate to shoot you. We will have to let time decide."

Feeling greatly that his life had been somewhat spared, Don pulled himself back onto his feet, picked up his car keys and stuttered, "O-okay, then. I...I will j-just be on my way then." Terwayne nodded in confirmation, hence Don unlocked the door to his car and stepped inside. "L-let's hope we n-never have to run into each other again."

"You just go off a drive." Rodgerick Terwayne crossed his arms and glared icily as the former judge closed the door and started the car engine. "That's right...start driving..." Terwayne watched silently like a stone statue as the sedan car driven by Done slowly pulled out of its parking space and began moving down the open space. "...just keep driving..."

Don's car continued slowly down the narrow road in between the two rows of cars with Rodgerick Terwayne still watching closely behind. It was far off down the end of the rows when a small grin appeared on Terwayne's purple face. _'Yeah...you just keep driving, Don boy. Just keep driving.'_

Terwayne opened the black trench coat and took something out from the pocket. It was a small black rectangular box with a blue button on one front. On the top of the box was a silver stub, which Rodgerick grabbed a hold of and extended outwards a feet or two. It was an long antennae.

The tall purple Who said to himself quietly, holding the square box in both hands, _"Well, don't worry, Don. All the little tension between us is going to become square sooner than you think."_ He then pointed the antennae in the direction of the car Don was driving. Terwayne chuckled to himself fiendishly, all most like a pre-teenage Who holding a magnifying over an ant on a hot sunny day. _"I'll be sure to see you in Hell, Don boy!" _With that, he pressed down hard on the blue button on the black box. At first, nothing until...

**BLAM!! BLAM!! KA-BLAM!! **A blinding white light flashed throughout the car park, lasting only for a few seconds before the deafening sound of an explosion rang throughout the building. Even Terwayne let out a yell as the force of the explosion sent him flying onto his back. A large plume of orange fire and smoke irrupted from the remains of the destroyed blue sedan, setting off the fire alarm and the sprinklers.

Getting back onto his feet and picking up the dropped silver snub-nosed revolver, Rodgerick Terwayne stumbled a moment before he regained his balance. He ran as down the rows of parked and tipped over cars and into the nearest elevator. He grabbed his arm, which received a surge of pain running up it. The purple Who must have hurt it when he fell backwards from the force of the explosion. Shoving the snub-nosed revolver back into his trench coat pocket and watching the elevator door close in front of him, Terwayne could not help but feel baffled by the intensity of the explosion. Caine had not told him about how powerful that bomb was, but still Terwayne had no idea it would be that powerful. Funny, Rodgerick should have been able to tell from the moment Caine handed it to him. After all, you do not spend over half of your life as a homicidal maniac without learning one or two things about explosives...

* * *

"Zoey, can you pass me the glue?" In a small house just outside the city, Jerome Eckhart sat leaning forward on an armchair in the living room over a piece of paper and several cut-outs on a coffee table. He picked up a pair scissors and snipped them a few times. "I've got all the pieces ready."

Zoey Eckhart was sitting down lazily on the large soft sofa, drinking her large mug of warm steamy cocoa. She looked up at her brother, set her cup down and picked up the small glue stick that set to her side. "Okay, here you go." Zoey then carefully underarm tossed the small glue stick across the short distance of the living room to her brother, who reached out his arms and caught it in his hand.

Pulling off the glue stick cap, Jerome picked up one of the paper cut-outs off the coffee stable. He then started pressing the gluing side of the stick against one side of the cut-out, while humming to himself a tune. Jerome and Zoey's parents were both still at the hospital, because it was their mother's last night there and their father was visiting her. Jerome and Zoey themselves were to stay behind and makes things nice and tidy for her homecoming. Mrs. Eckhart had been in that hospital for weeks now since the incident of the robbery of Whoville's First Bank. It was a great relief for the Eckhart siblings that their mother was going to be back in time for Christmas.

Right now, Jerome was making one of his many collages, which was a good hobby of his. The teenage Who usually did one of these to wind down after a stressful, especially the events of last night. The collage of this morning, Jojo/Freakshow McDodd. The guy might have been a schizophrenic and homicidal nutter, but he sure created a very good theme. He pressed the glued cut-out of Freakshow grinning viciously down onto the paper and stated, "You know, Zo, this might just be finest piece of work yet."

"If you so." Zoey took another sip of her drink looked over to the television, which was showing some cheap B-movie. She then added with a hint of disgust, "But why you would ever want to do a collage of some psycho is beyond me." Zoey was still feeling slightly shooken up by the whole ordeal that had taken place only just hours ago.

"I know, Zoey. I know." Jerome replied as he glued down a few more of the paper cut-outs. "This is just to help me unwind after a stressful day. And boy..." he whistled and rolled his eyes, "...last night was as intense as the heat of the sun's core."

Zoey just laid down against the cushions of the sofa and stretched out her back like a lazy cat. "Whatever, I'm not hear to pass judgement, Jerome." She moved over on her side so that she was facing the sofa and not the television. "Wake me up when mom and dad get home."

Jerome sighed and shook his head, "Zo, you've just had two glasses of cola before that cocoa." He pressed another glued cut-out onto the paper. "You won't be able to sleep." In response, Zoey grabbed a pillow and covered it over her face. Then the sound of her voice humming a tune loudly droned from underneath the pillow. The male teenage Who then shrugged and got back to his work on his collage of Freakshow. Jerome had to admit that he enjoyed doing this one of Freakshow; it was looking good enough to be hung up on a wall.

_Knock. Knock._

Both Jerome and Zoey looked over towards the front door of their house that was not far away from them. Surely it was not their own parents at door of their home. The two of then were not due home from the hospital for at least half and hour now. Who could have it been there knocking then?

Letting out a yawn, Zoey said to her older brother, "Hey, Jerome, get the door."

"I can't." Jerome shook his head and held up his hands. They were covered in glue and pieces of paper from the cut-outs. "My hands are a little..."

Moaning loudly and irritably, Zoey pulled her legs back and placed them on the floor. "Okay, but you owe me on for this." She pulled herself up onto her feet and dragged herself across the living room over to the front door. "It must be the neighbours. Probably telling us they've received _our _electric bill again. I'm telling ya, if I ever get my hands on that mail man I'll-" But when young Zoey Eckhart opened the front door of her home, she could only stand there, wide-eyed and horror-stricken. All the colour had drained from her face and her mouth hung half-open, starring at the figure standing right in front of her. "..."

_"Smile!"_

There was a bright blue flash, followed immediately by a terrified scream of Zoey Eckhart. Her small dainty body was thrown back into the air; illuminated by a crackling blue electricity that engulfed the room so brightly it could have blinded an innocent bystander. As she was hurled backwards, crashing hard against the closed white painted wooden door of the kitchen, Zoey let out a pain-filled scream of agony, "**AAAAIIIIEEEE!!" **Her head slammed hard against the door, rendering the poor girl unconscious!

Witnessing the entire event, Jerome jumped up from the armchair, unintentionally knocking the coffee table and the contents on top over onto the floor. **"ZOEY!!" **Jerome exclaimed in terror and wasted no time in running at full speed to his unconscious sister's body. But this left him completely off-guard for...

Pow! A large black-gloved fist socked Jerome Eckhart hard across the face with enough impact that it sent him off his feet! "Gah!" Jerome grasped his mouth as a splatter of blood shot out from in between his teeth. He fell hard to the floor on his knees and looked downwards, still covering his mouth with one hand. "Arrghh..."

"Hey, hey, hey, now! Let's all just take a valium and calm down!" Jerome recognized that distinct voice. He looked up from his blood covered hand turned his head over his right shoulder. Freakshow was standing over Jerome, appearing significantly taller than him despite being literally shorter in size.

Freakshow then removed the bowler hat on top of his head and grinned broadly down at his former associate. "Jumpin' Jiminy Christmas! Jerome Eckhart! It's been ages since we've had a good talk!" He leaned down to meet Jerome eye to eye. "How are you, my good Who?" The blue-faced menace looked over at the collage and paper cutouts laying by the tipped over coffee table. "Still up to your old hobby, eh? Thought so." Freakshow raised his foot up high and kicked Jerome in the side, sending the latter over on his side. "Oh, Jerome! Jerome, Jerome, Jerome." He snatched up the piece of paper that Jerome had been working on and gave it a good look over. After a moment, the psycho whistled and nodded in approval. "Well...well, Jerome, you have done such a good job on my complexion here. Some very well-chosen poses of me in this. I will have to put it up on my wall." Freakshow then shoved the paper collage underneath the right breast of his blazer. "Now let's get down to business, shall we?"

Jerome had not fully brought himself to his feet yet, but still he pushed himself forward in an attempt to tackle the infamous Freakshow. "You!! **YOU BASTARD!!" **Unfortunately for the tall teenage Who, he tripped over and landed on his front, right at Freakshow's feet.

"Now let's not do anything too drastic, Eckhart." _Click. _He took out his golden desert eagle and pointed it down to Jerome's chin. "No one here wants to cause a fuss." Freaky tapped Jerome's chin a few times with the firing end of the desert eagle. "I just came to see how one of my old friends was doing. Oh..." His grin grew from ear to ear, at least on the side of his face where cheek had not been torn away. "...and to take you for a little ride"

Still fuelled with white hot fury, Jerome formed his blood covered hand into a fist. He pulled it back, ready to deliver a blow to Freakshow's groin, but something large and strong grabbed hold of it. Jerome looked up and saw that it was Claude's large grasping hand holding onto his. "Now, now. None of that."

"You..." Jerome glared up intensely at Freakshow and looked back at Zoey Eckhart's motionless form. "You've _killed _her."

"What?! Killed her?!" Freakshow asked his former associate bamboozled. He began waving his bowler in front of his own face as if it were a fan, while he corrected Jerome. "Trust me, my good friend, she is in no way dead. She's just unconscious, I assure you..." The homicidal Who spun his bowler hat over to one of the goons who caught it. Then, he reached into his blazer pocket and pulled something out from it. It looked like some sort of camera. "Ya see this? This is the camera of the future, my friend. Ya just give it a click and..." Freakshow put on a fake display of being electrocuted. **"Bzzzzzzzzt!" **He laughed out loud before patting Jerome's shoulder. "But seriously, she'll be fine. Besides, it's you I want, not her."

Jerome now felt more calmed at the moment, yet he was still shivering slightly in fear. "What is it...that you want from me?" Jerome remembered something important and looked at his adversary shocked. "And wait...wh-what are you doing here?! You're supposed to be in the asylum!"

"You sure don't watch the news, do you, Jerome?" Freakshow groaned irritably and looked at his wrist-watch, "Well, I can't really explain it all, right here, right now. I'm gonna have to fill you in on the way." He gestured towards Claude and two of the other huge goons, indicating them to grab full hold of Jerome, which they complied without hesitation. "I hope you don't get car sick easily, because I am one Hell of a bad driver! Ha, ha, ha!"

Despite being in pain, Jerome was not about to just give in as he was lifted by the arms to his shaking feet. "I'll kill you. I swear to the lord, I'll..."

"Ah, shut up!" Freakshow raised his foot and kicked the psychically damaged Who back into the group of thugs. "You're embarrassing yourself!" He took a glance at the goons, towering in size compared to himself. "You, you, you, you, you and Claude! Take him into the van; I'll be right with you." On that last segment fragment, he looked over with a grin to the unconscious form of Zoey Eckhart resting against the closed kitchen door. The goons got a good idea and chuckled devilishly amongst them as they roughly dragged the still resisting Jerome outside of the house and into the van.

Looking around the living room, Freakshow whistled impressed, putting the 'camera' and desert eagle into his blazer pockets. "Wow. You know...you're mother has...really spruced up this place since the last time I came here for dinner those months ago." He was 'talking' to Zoey, whom of which just sat there against the door, still unconscious with her head tilted sideways and her mouth slightly open. There was a slight bruise on her head from hitting the door and there still seemed to be smoking emitting from her body. "I especially like the paintings of the yachts. I've all ways liked boats."

Freaky put his hands behind his make and strolled across the living room to Zoey's body. "You like boats too? My, my, we have so much in common." When he reached her body, the psycho kneeled down on one foot and gazed at her closed eyes. Her body appeared to be in a very comfortable position, yet her face looked so calm and relaxed; as if she were sleeping like an angel. "Maybe we can go out for dinner and a show sometime." Freakshow reached out his hand and caressed Zoey's ever so soft furry cheek. It felt so much more soft than that of Green Lilith's was. It even felt like such a fine silk you would find comprising a ceremonial robe. "Ooh, now that is a mighty fine piece of art you've got going there." The homicidal Who's pale tongue slithered out from his mouth like a deadly serpent and lightly pressed against Zoey's soft cheek. He lifted the tongue up against the furry cheek slowly as to completely take in all the erotic emotions and sick fantasies going about in his mind. Moaning in ecstasy, Freakshow pulled his naughty tongue back into his mouth. It was particularly easy since the girl was unconscious. "Zoey Eckhart, you filthy little slut." He wiped the saliva way from the side of his mouth but left the saliva still on her cheek. "You know, I'm pretty so you'll be great in the sack one day. Better than Lilith, maybe, who knows? Maybe you and I will get the chance to see for ourselves one day. Heh, heh, heh. Just maybe. We'll see."

With a slight strain due to still being slightly overweight, Freakshow kneeled back up onto two feet. "But until that time, I must bid you..." He bowed in a gentlemen-like fashion before her and put his hand into his blazer, looking for something. Soon, he found the object he was looking for and took in out into view. It was his calling card with the same 'wicked grin' on one side of it. "For now, here is my card." He reached back down, lifted Zoey's limp hand and fitted the card into it. "Here you are, my sweet."

Turning around on his heels, Freakshow waved his hand back at the unconscious female teenage Who against the kitchen door. "Ta, ta! Oh and be sure to say hello to your mother for me! Huahahahahahahahaha!"

All the while, Zoey's unconscious body just sat there, perfectly still. Her eyes were closed, her head leaned to one side and Freakshow's calling card was still held within her hand. Mr. and Mrs. Eckhart would have been horrified just at first with how they found their daughter when they returned home an hour later from this moment of terror. It was actually when they discovered their only son was missing and found the card with wicked grin on top in their unconscious daughter's hand panic broke took over. They managed to call an ambulance to take Zoey to the hospital for care and actually managed to get help from the police with _some _success. One would think with the massive breakout of prisoners and psychopaths, getting personal police help would be impossible. In truth, getting some help from the Whos in blue would actually sound feasible in that hour's time in which they returned. Why? Because by that time Mr. and Mrs. Eckhart returned to their home, the police had received some special 'backup'...

* * *

The underground storage area of Whoville was quite simply a massive area installed beneath the city of Whoville. There, everything that was not being used in Whoville was stored for safe-keeping. Food and fresh water, clothing, all other kinds of imports from other cites and most importantly, stored machinery and weaponry. It was sometimes used for a safe and protective bunker in the very rare case of a foreseen natural disaster. But aside from that, the only Whos that would normally go down into that massive, dark and barely lighted room were employees to move storage in and out. But at the very moment, there were not just a group of Whos standing inside the underground storage, but a certain group of Noolians at there side.

Ned sat down on top of a large crate and looked down at his feet dangling down inches from the floor. The rings around his eyes had become so dark they could be seen from a few metres away. Sally stood right next to her husband by the large crate, holding onto her head that felt like there were active drills inside it. The Noolians, along with Commissioner Martyn who had his hands in his pockets and the timid Dr. Larue, stood there in dead silence, not uttering a word. The truth was that they were currently waiting for someone to arrive.

That person soon came tumbling down the concrete stairs into the massive storage room. It was Lieutenant Arnold Knox, clutching his blood-stained arm tightly in a cringing pain. Martyn was the first of the group to see Knox coming up to them as the first to notice his arm. He walked forward to the Lieutenant, asking in concern, "Arnold? Are you all right?"

Knox gritted his teeth and found his way to a small crate full of foam pellets. "Sorry for taking a bit too long, Kent. Got in a scrap with one of those nutters on the way here. I finished him off, but the S.O.B. was just able to get me in the arm." He removed his hand, revealing his arm to having a white bandage tightly wrapped around it. There was a faint red blot forming underneath, making itself clearly visible. "Thank lord that a medic was nearby at the time."

Ned pushed himself off of his large crate and onto his feet. His shoulders slumped and his head leaned forward in utter misery, while walking forward, "It doesn't matter now. It doesn't make any difference..." He moved past both Martyn and Knox and looked into the darkness at...nothing. Poor Ned just stood there starring into space, his back turned on everyone who was looking at him in search of hope. "Freakshow's won." The Mayor balled up his best and hit against a massive crate three times his size with weak strength. "He wanted to get caught! The Laruenizer wasn't what he was after! He was deliberately getting himself into a padded cell!" Ned began hitting his head hard with his fists in anger towards himself. "How could have I been such an idiot?! Idiot, idiot, idiot..."

Sally stepped forward in an attempt to console her husband. "Ned..."

But Ned was not going to have any of that. He looked back at her and exclaimed desperately, "But it's true, Sally! I mean, I can't keep denying it anymore!" He leaned his back against the large crate, moaning sadly, "Vonfrood was right...I am a boob."

"Now hold on. You are not a 'boob'!" Horton came into the conversation, completely baffled at what Ned was saying about himself. "I mean, you were the first Who to discover Whoville was on a speck and warned the people of the disaster. You helped save Whoville!"

"Yeah, but what did it take to convince them, Horton?" Ned looked up at his large elephant friend doubtfully. "A long drop from a cliff that caused an earthquake, seriously damaging our city! I mean, come on! If it takes a disaster to make the people trust me, what does that say about my ability as Mayor?!"

Horton did not really know how he could have answered that, but Vlad stepped forward and spoke before the elephant could. "Perhaps you are forgetting something very important, Mayor McDodd..." Vlad looked down at Ned, whom of which had slumped down onto the floor with his face in his hand. "Something important..."

Sceptically, Ned raised his face out from his hand and rolled his eyes at the black-bottom eagle. "Oh, yeah? And what's that, Vlad?"

Vlad Vladikoff folded his giant greasy black-feathered wings and stated to Whoville's Mayor, towering other the Who like a tall statue. "Very few of your mayoral ancestors have had to deal with criminal psychos like _him!"_ When Ned's facial expression softened, Vlad continued, "Exactly as I thought. You just don't remember that before the clover incident, things here in Whoville were past and beyond the point of perfection. If one of your ancestors' mayoral heirs had turned wacko like Jojo did, then those Mayors would have been in the same position you're in!"

"All right...fine! Then what do I do then, Vlad?!" Ned jumped up and met the large carnivorous bird eye-to-eye in a serious manner. "Okay, maybe you're right. I wouldn't be the only Mayor freaking out if the problem was at a different time. But it's not like they would no what to do to resolve it either! Not even my Great, Great, Great..." after a few more 'greats', Ned finished with saying, slightly out of breath, "...Grandpa Nixon!"

"Catch Freakshow and/or kill him! Doesn't sound too complicated once you go other it like that, does it?!"

Ned could not believe what he heard come out from the eagle's beak. "You're asking me to consider killing my own son! Haven't you the slightest idea of what a horrible things that is to consider; even if it is for the greater good?!" The Mayor could not help himself but press onwards angrily. "I-if you had a son, Vlad, would you kill him if it were an option?!"

Vlad looked away in the opposite direction, saying darkly but truthfully, "I would try to avoid it myself, like you're doing right now. But if I did have myself a son in the same position and ran out of alternatives...then I would conclude that I must take the last one; probably the most unpopular one. If killing him will turn out a good option in the long-run, I would have to do it."

"Well, maybe I'm not as hard hearted as you! Maybe, unlike you, I have a conscience!"

"Don't say that I don't have a conscience, McDodd! I do!" Vlad snapped back, pointing his wing feather into Ned's shoulder. "Why, if I didn't have a conscience, I would have followed my father's instructions and slaughtered everything in my sight in the Jungle of Nool!" He turned away from Ned and began pacing back and forth past his fellow Noolians, grumbling to himself.

"And what makes my son so different, then?!" Ned just did not understand what Vlad's point was.

The black-bottom eagle sighed heavily and turned his view down at his claws, deciding to look at them rather at the Mayor. "Because this time murder that _has _to be committed for the greater good!" Now he did look at Ned with a look of some sympathy but also determination. "Yes, he's your son and deep down you still love him. The part of him that's still Jojo, that is, however..." He motioned his wing up to the ceiling, referring to the situation above. "With all the chaos he has brought to this city there are now only really two alternatives we're left with..." He gestured both his wings to the left. "Either we catch him and just wait for a month or two until he escapes again and causes more chaos..." And then Vlad moved his wings to the right. "Or we kill him and put an end to his madness, thus doing what is best for your city!"

Ned knew that in the long run, Vlad was perhaps right. But then he remembered something else important. "Maybe you do have a right point, Vlad. But if Freakshow is caught or killed, still...will it make any difference? You heard about Freakshow and 'how he's changed the rules'. Even if he's out of the way, there's gonna be a whole hoard of criminals out there to 'carry on his duties'!" He looked down at his feet and declared sadly. "We have to face facts Vlad. No matter what we do...it's hopeless."

Commissioner Martyn shook his head and walked up to the group with some good news. "No, it's not." He held up what looked like a little black communicator. "I've just got good and bad news from the cops in the city. The good news: they're doing a good job in securing a perimeter in the business district around the criminals." He remembered something important which he brought up to the Mayor. "Oh, yeah and that thing you said about criminals 'carrying out Freakshow's duties'; crooks are cowards. The second their leader is gone, they'll scatter away in fear like the repulsive insects they are."

Ned's old smile returned to his face in a look of hope. "Wow, that's great. Maybe you're onto something there, Kent." But the frown returned the moment he remembered there was bad news. "Hold on, wait a moment...what's the bad news, exactly?"

"There are some that are managing to slip by the perimeter." Martyn snapped the communicator back onto his belt. "We can't send them any more backup. Our police are stretched out far enough as it is." He looked around the group. "We need to get forces of some kind to south of the perimeter, the weakest part to take care of the crooks."

Morton zipped up onto Ned's shoulder and asked the Commissioner, "You can't honestly say that you have absolutely no cops available, Kent!"

"I know it sounds crazy, but that is nearly enough the case. We've got a few beat cops available, but that's just about it."

Lt. Knox put his hands behind his head and put one leg onto the other as he stretched his stiff back. "God, how we need the Batwho, right now." He scratched his bristly chin with the tips of his fingers and chuckled mockingly. "Heh, heh. We can shine the Who-signal up into the sky and maybe, heh, heh, the Dark Knight of Whoville come to our rescue! Ha, ha, ha!"

But while Knox laughed, Dr. Larue whom had been quietly thinking to herself for the period in time finally spoke up. "I don't think we can do that. All though..." She caught everyone's attention at that part. "...we can do the next best thing."

"Oh God, what are you suggesting, Larue?" Kangaroo moved in past Yummo and Horton to the pink-haired Who, crossing her arms. "You wanna get one of us to dress up in black and grey spandex and go into the city firing whorangs?! Oh, oh, and in addition; how about we throw a Whomobile into the mix. You know, you know, just for a good laugh. "

Dr. Larue paused and looked at her watch before she continued speaking, "Wow, you're done speaking. That's a big surprise. I think you've set a personal record. You know something, you're completely insensitive, Kangaroo. At least I'm actually doing something to help."

That comment really ticked Kangaroo off and she stepped forward, coming into Larue's face. "Ohhhh, you've set it off now, Larue."

Seeing that this was going to lead into a big argument, Ned slipped in between the two females and said with a authoritative manner , "Okay, okay, let's cool it down, ladies. Now's not the time to argue." Once he was sure the two of them were cooled down, the Mayor looked at Dr. Larue. "Mary, what is this idea of yours?"

"We can use Project Aviator, Mr. Mayor." Larue told Ned brightly, taking him by the shoulders. "Think about it. Project Aviator could be the very thing that can save Whoville...and the one controlling it of course."

Yummo guessed, scratching the top of his head, "So it's like one of those plane things, right?"

Ned looked very unsure on this matter, rubbing the side of his head and putting the other hand on his side. "It's not a plane of sorts. It's kind of like a suit."

"You mean like those tuxedos back at the gala?" Horton asked, rubbing the top of his head with his long trunk. "I guess I can understand if it's one of those tuxedos that have high-tech gadgets attached..."

"Uh, more like an armour, to be exact. One capable of flight and _other _things." Ned waved his hands slightly in dismissal at the whole idea. "But, but it's far too untested. I-It's not even supposed to be shown to the general public until next year's Science Gala."

Everyone else gave each other a look before Vlad said to the Mayor sternly, stepping forward "Please, show us."

* * *

It was only a couple of minutes after Dr. Larue left down one of the many aisles of the storage area that she returned, transporting a rectangular metal crate on top of a red dolly. Also, wrapped around the large metal crate were massive, nearly novelty sized metal chains with a large bronze padlock in the centre. On one side of the rectangular metal crate, engraved in rustic red were the words 'PROJECT AVIATOR'. The Whos and the Noolians looked at the large rectangle-shaped metal crate in awe. Whatever was inside that crate had to be rather top-secret and of high quality. Larue stepped out from behind the red dolly and looked at the fascinated group of citizens from Nool and Whoville, saying as she tapped the crate's lid. "Here it is, everyone."

Rudy however looked at the rustic red words on the side of the crate and asked, "I don't understand what the big deal is. It's only some big metal box."

"Trust me kid. It's what's inside the box." Lt. Knox spoke, walking over the side of the large metal crate next to Dr. Larue. He was holding a long grey crowbar in his right hand and he began trying to jimmy the lid open. But the large Lieutenant was not having a lot of success with it. "Come on...come on...ugh! This stupid...grrr!"

Dr. Larue put her hand up, signalling Lt. Knox to cease and took out a remote. "Allow me, Arnold." She pointed it at the bronze padlock and clicked on a number of buttons. The padlock let out a beep and after the sound of a few clicks, it snapped off, releasing the chains.

Commissioner Martyn pulled the metal chains off the crate's lid, revealing a large white circle, which the officer pressed down with his palm. The two semi-doors making up the lid hissed and moved inwards, letting a thick grey smoke pour out from the interior.

When the smoke cleared, the group could see the contents of the crate cradled within a lime green padding. It was indeed, as Ned had described it as an armour of sorts. There was a thick curved breastplate and a pair of cuisses attached to poleynes which were in turn attached to the greaves. They were all coloured a dull unreflecting grey metal. Folded up against the breastplate were what looked like a pair of loose and extendable bat-like wings, the 'bones' made of metal and 'wing membrane' made of a smooth black fabric. Set at the top above the breastplate was a polished helmet designed to look like those used when driving a motorcycle, with a bright green face shield coming downward, covering the eye area. Finally, set underneath this fascinating armour was a pair of metal gauntlets and a large black leather suit case.

Dr. Larue looked at the creation proudly and explained it in detail. "Everyone, maybe I present to you Project Aviator! It's the next step in police weaponry; taking to the skies. What you see before you is the prototype." She grabbed hold of the metal breastplate and pulled it upward slightly, revealing what appeared to be some sort of rocket attached to the back. "As you can see, it has a jet propulsion system to increase flight efficiency tenfold. The missile launcher can prove useful too."

Horton could not contain his excitement by just looking at this new armour. "Wow! Just wow! This is...awesome! Awesome! You have gotta let me try this out!" He then did some action poses like some glamorous super hero. "I'll go out there and kick some bad-guy butt and knock them into next week!"

"Um..." Ned rubbed the back of his head, not very sure how to break this to Horton without hurting the elephant's feelings. "Don't get me wrong; It's a great thought, Horton. But you're a little too...big to wear this kind of armour." He then motioned to the armour and shook his head disapprovingly. "And besides, Project Aviator hasn't gone under nearly enough testing for us to even consider using it now."

"We don't have a lot of other options, Ned." Sally pointed out to her husband and jabbed her thumb at the armour resting within the metal crate. "The only way we're gonna take down the criminals that are escaping, then one of us has gotta put that thing on and fight on the front lines." She looked at him and grinned playfully. "How about you?"

He shook his head instantly. "I don't really think I'm trained to go flying around town in some super suit, Sally." He looked at Commissioner Martyn and Lt. Knox. "Kent? Arnold? How about either of you two? I mean, you're law enforcers and all."

Lt. Knox lifted his damaged arm up for Ned to see. "Can't be me. I'm kinda out of use at the moment."

Commissioner Martyn added in, while shrugging, "Me neither. That and because neither of us have training in flying planes or anything like that."

It was then that Vlad Vladikoff, after taking in a deep sigh moved forward and told the Mayor of Whoville and his friends boldly, "Mr. Mayor, allow me to dawn this armour." This made all eyes turn upon the large black-bottom eagle in shock. Had they just heard what they thought they had just heard?

"You're kidding, right?" Morton, whom was still perched on Ned's shoulder gaped at the large carnivorous bird. "You actually wanting to help people? That's the joke of the year."

Vlad continued to press onward. "Listen, I'm the only one with a good skills in flying and I've done a few flights around the city to know my way around it." He pointed to the prototype armour and then spread out his wings. "And you can notice how that there armour is perfectly suitable for a bird. I can wear the gauntlets on my talons if that's a problem."

"Well, yeah, but...why are you offering to do this, anyway?" Larue walked up to the massive eagle, whom was standing tall over her. "You, you realise of course that by going out there in that armour, you'd be putting your life on the line." She put her finger to her head, giving the expression of shooting a gun. "One slip up and you'll end up a fried bird for Christmas. Why would you want to do something dangerous like this?"

The eagle slowly looked over to Kangaroo and said softly, smiling a bit. "Because I want to be the eagle that's different from the others." This made the large purple marsupial smile back warmly. "And I want to make things between me and Whoville squared once and for all."

"Even if it means you could get yourself killed within the first two minutes?"

"It won't matter. I've only got few relatives back in Nool and a hollow cave." Vlad shook his head and reached his claw onto Larue's shoulder. "Doesn't sound like I've got much to lose, doesn't it?" He looked over at Ned, Commissioner Martyn and Lt. Knox. "Whaddya say?"

Ned looked at the two law enforcers in hopes for some help. When the two could only just shrug in response, both looking bamboozled, Ned looked back to Vlad, "Are you absolutely sure?"

"Definitely."

Then the Mayor smiled, picking the helmet up from the metal crate. "Then let's get you suited up."

* * *

Ten minutes passed...

"Come on, Vlad. We're waiting." Kangaroo tapped her foot onto the floor impatiently, the rest of the group standing next to her, also feeling impatient. "We haven't got all morning."

Vlad's voice shot back from behind one very tall crate, "No! I look...stupid!" He sounded ticked-off, yet also embarrassed to some extent. "I'm not coming out."

Dr. Larue, whom was standing behind the crate with Vlad, hissed to the black-bottom eagle, "Vlad, stop acting like a child! You look fine! Now come on!" There was the sound of a slight struggle until eventually, the eagle and the scientist appeared from behind the crate. Needles to say, Vlad looked a little _small _in the huge armour. He still fitted into the armour reasonably for him to keep it from sliding off of his body, but it was still a size or two big for him, especially the helmet.

The group looking at him and Dr. Larue remained silent, starring at the armoured eagle blankly. They began nudging each other to say something, until Morton finally zipped forward until he was standing in the gap between the eagle and scientist, and the remaining group.

Clearing his throat and choosing his words carefully, the electric blue mouse spoke, doing his very best to prevent himself from laughing out loud, "Vlad...um, uh...ooh, ah...you look very...very..." He could not retain himself any longer. "You...oh, my God, you stupid ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!!"

"That's it. I'm taking this goofy getup off." Vlad growled, reaching his talons up to side of his helmet in a futile attempt to take it off of his head.

"Oh, no, you're not." Sally said sternly, walking up to the large carnivorous bird and swatting his talons down. "You are going outside and are gonna beat the living tar out of the homicidal maniacs running rampant!"

Vlad groaned exhausted and marched forward towards the concrete stairs slowly, the pieces of armour clanking loudly against each other as he did. "Fine. But I won't like it...dear lord this thing is heavy." It was true. This prototype armour did weigh down heavily upon the eagle.

Dr. Larue made her way to the concrete stairs at Vlad's side, giving him instructions at the same time. She tugged on the synthetic wings which Vlad's own were strapped onto. "Now these 'wings' will help improve your flight ability tenfold, especially the rocket." Next, Mary tapped the side of the metal helmet the eagle was wearing. "And there's a communication device installed into the side of your helmet. So I can therefore guide you through all the armour's abilities and weapons. Any questions?"

"Yeah. Is there anything in this armour to make it a little less..." He cringed under the armour's weight. "...heavy?"

"Sorry. But this is a prototype, remember? We're still working on it."

Vlad sighed tiredly and nearly all ready out of breath, "Okay, then. I'll get going then to the market place."

"Business district." Knox corrected the black-bottom eagle as the latter walked by.

"Business district." Vlad repeated to himself as he made the first step onto the concrete stairs. He turned to look at Ned, whom was standing there right next to him. "Mr. Mayor...you realise if I do happen to run into Jojo...I can't make any promises that I won't make an attempt on his life."

"I know." Ned nodded, not hiding how sorrowful he felt at the moment with that thought coming into mind. "Then again...that's just it. After all, fate works in a cruel way. You must do what you _have _to do. But can you promise me but _one _thing?"

"Anything."

Ned put his hand on Vlad's shoulder. "Can you at least _try... _not to attempt to kill him?"

Vlad nodded in reply. "All right. I promise you that." After shaking hands/talons with Ned, Vlad continued his heavy march up the concrete stairs with Larue following up behind him. He asked her confused, "Say, uh, Larue, how do you start this here rocket on my back?"

When the two were up the stairs and out of sight in the darkness, Larue's echoing voice answered the large bird, _"There's a number of buttons on the gauntlets there on your talons that control most of the armour's basic functions. The one that starts the rocket in on the right."_

_"Oh, you mean this big round orange one, right here?"_

_"Yeah, sure. Just be careful, though. If you press it too hard, then it will- Wait, wait, don't! You're-!"_

There was the sound and orange flash of the armour's rocket igniting and the panicked screaming of the two from the narrow staircase hallway. This made all of those looking up into the stairs cringe and look at each other uneasily.

Sally looked at Horton and Yummo, asking the Noolians dryly, "You ever stop to think; "Wow, we're _friends _with that guy?"

* * *

**(A/N) And I will end the chapter right there. Now, after giving it a check, this chapter is actually my longest ever. All right, now this is the very point where things in the story really, **_**really **_**near their climax. It will only be a couple of chapters before the last confrontation between the black-bottom eagle and the villainous Freakshow. But do not worry; there will be plenty of action and intense moments packed within the next couple of chapters before the climactic showdown between the two rivals. Let us not forget about the many savage criminals and psychos roaming throughout Whoville that Vlad has to sort out and what Freakshow, in the meantime is doing to Jerome...**

**Until then, please Read and Review!**


	14. Chapter Thirteen: Rise of the Dark Eagle

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(A/N) All right, everyone, I am back with chapter thirteen. Now, this chapter is where Vlad Vladikoff fights against the escaped villainous scum running rampant in Whoville. Meanwhile, with Freakshow, the blue-faced menace will be playing a few vicious and sadistic little games on Jerome Eckhart. Read on see for yourselves.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Rise of the Dark Eagle**

_"Jerome? Oh, Jerome...? Wake up, you useless son of a bitch!"_

Jerome Eckhart felt head to toe in a seething agony. The poor Who's body just laid there motionless, not wanting to move an inch, just in case it would cause him even more pain. It did not matter as several large and rugged hands grabbed hold of him and pulled him up onto his feet. At least, he thought it was his feet. Jerome felt all most completely numb from the waist down. His vision was also blurred by nearly every colour possible. Red, purple, blue, green, yellow; it was all making his head hurt as if it were experiencing the mother of all headaches.

"Ohhhhhhhhh...wazziss...wait...wazziss?" Jerome slurred, saliva pouring out from each corner of his mouth. Soon, his vision came slowly into focus so he could see the people grabbing a hold of him. They were all tall Whos dressed up in black with different masks over their faces and bowler hats on their heads. "Who are you people...? Huah?" Jerome felt his body being lifted up off his feet and into midair, being carried in the arms of these mysterious thugs. Things really got disturbing and frightening when the flock of flying hands grasped his articles of clothing and began pulling them off. He was being stripped down into his bare fur! "What are you-?! Get your hands off! Gah!"

Moments later, the hands released their grip on Jerome and dropped him down onto the floor with a loud thud. Jerome sprung up and held onto his leg, which he had hurt on his short drop. "What...what is going on?!" But instead of getting an answer, Jerome was once again hoisted up onto his still numb feet and this time, the teenage Who felt something being clamped around his neck. He looked down and saw heavy metal chains wrapped loosely around his neck and shoulders. He tried to pull them off himself, but Jerome was far too weak to even lift them above his head.

"Come on, Bucko!" A large yellow masked Who grunted, tugging on the long chain of metal links. "There's going to be a big show going on in a few moments! You don't want to be late!"

And so the stumbling and aching Jerome was pushed and shoved forward across what he could best describe as a cold yet smooth metal floor. The temperature of this place poor Jerome was being dragged through was oh s_o _cold. It had to be around 10 degrees or even lower. But the temperature was not what was important to Jerome right now, but his immense worry of his position. Poor Jerome had no idea where he was at the moment and why he was being forced through this horror. And what of Zoey? Was she all right? How were his parents going to react to what they were going to find when they returned? Was he going to get out of here?!

Jerome coughed out to the group of soulless masked thugs forcing his down through the darkness, his voice sounding coarse, "Please, what _is _this...and where are you people taking me?"

"We're taking you out to the night of your life!" A skinny bright blue masked Who laughed in a rather queer voice. "Come along, now!"

Jerome grabbed his sweating forehead and cried in dismay, "This...this must be a dream. Yes, it has to be a dream! This can't be real! It can't!" The teenage Who then received a hard kick to his back and collapsed on his front to the icy metal floor. "Agghhh...! Someone, I'm begging you...tell me what is going on, here?!"

_"What is going on? What is going on?! You want to know what is going on, Jerome?! Hauhahahahahahahaha!! Well, I'm going to tell you what is going on all right, but the question is: will you pay attention?! Huahahahahaha!"_

_That voice._ Jerome could recognized that sadistic, suave and cocky voice in an instant; it was none other than Freakshow's. He put his weak hands on the metal floor and pushed himself up onto his knees with great effort. The teenage Who lifted his head to see a dark abyss surrounding him and the masked thugs, all except for one thing: a large throne that ascended ten feet high into the air on top of a mountain of metal scraps and pieces. A black marble staircase led up to the polished black throne that had golden trimmings and red cushioning on the seat and backrest.

Who else sat there in the black throne but the blue-face menace himself? Freakshow sat there up straight; his bowler hat tipped over his head and the black cane still held in one hand. "You are going..." He pushed the hat's brim upwards, revealing his yellow eyes and finished with a toothy grin, _"...insane."_

"You!" He pointed his index finger up shakily up at the blue-faced menace sitting up high in the throne. "I-I-it's you! I remember now! What is this place?! Why did you bring me here?!"

The deformed and homicidal Who leaped out of the black throne and slammed his cane onto the metal platform on which the throne was positioned. "To prove a point..." He began stepping slowly down the marble steps to his prisoner. "You know, Jerome, it's all most impossible to imagine even the most sane and normal Who can be torn down to people like...like..." He snapped his fingers a couple of times and answered, his example found. "Oh, yeah, that's right...ME!" The monster's laughter was echoed by a chorus of howls of hilarity from the thugs. In the middle of this brief moment of laughter, Freakshow took out a pistol tucked away in his pocket.

**Pang! **A nameless white masked goon fell onto the metal floor motionless, a red blooded hole on the top of his mask. Still, the masked goons continued in their sadistic laughter, even pointing at the white masked thug laying there dead as a door nail. It was clear now to Jerome that these Whos in masks were not normal in their heads.

Freakshow's expression turned business-like and told his former associate as he reached the end of the staircase. "But it is true, I'm afraid. There are some out there that become pushed so far that their mind just goes on the fritz! That's what happened to me, you know. Oh, and that my good friend..." Freakshow reached his cane down to Jerome's chin and lifted it up so both their eyes met. "...is exactly what I am going to be doing to you!"

Jerome eyebrows arched so that he glared intensely at his foe. "You want get away with this, you, you...maniac!"

"Newsflash, prat: I all ready _have _gotten away with it!" Freakshow then put on a fake dumb pose with his tongue sticking out. "Duh!" His expression turned devious again and he winked at a red masked Who as in some sort of signal. The red masked Who obliged and pulled something out from behind his back. It was a bright red wrapped package with a golden bow; one you would usually find laying under the trees on a crisp and joy-filled Christmas morning. "My good men, what do you say we give Jerome here an early Christmas present?" The masked goons all nodded excitedly, trying their best to stifle their chuckling. "Okay. If you all say so." Freaky put his fingers to his lips and whistled.

Chuckling lowly, the red masked Who lurched over in front of Jerome and set the 'present' down before him. When Jerome looked up at Freakshow, the latter grinned broadly and devilishly, resting his hands and chin on the end of his cane, "Well...what are you waiting for, Jerome? Open it, all ready. Let us see what you got this year."

"You can't be serious."

**"I said 'open it!'" **Freakshow spat loudly, striking the bottom of his cane hard onto the metal floor, causing a loud ring to echo throughout the seemingly hollow room.

Jerome lifted his weak hands up and took the golden ribbons. He gave it a slow pull, causing the ribbons to unfurl and leaving Jerome to tear away the top half of the red wrapping. Now all that was left to take care off was the blank white lid of the package. Seeing Freakshow glaring down impatiently at him, the captured Who shakily opened the lids of the supposed 'present' and peeked inside it.

A metal nozzle instantly stuck out of the open 'present' and pointed at Jerome. A loud hiss and a bright purple gas shot out of the nozzle and into the teenage Who's voice. "Agh! Gah!" Jerome coughed a few times, putting his hand to his mouth. "You bastard, what is that?!" He coughed again, this time large amounts of spit firing out of his mouth.

"Some drug we use in our little 'organisation'. Courtesy of Dr. Marvin Caine." Freakshow moved his black blazer sleeve, revealing an assortment of fancy superfluous jewel encrusted watches on his arm. "I believe the effects of your 'medication' will be taking place right...about..." he tapped the top of one of his many watches."...now!"

Just as Freakshow had said, the effects of this mysterious drug began to take place. Cold sweat poured out from the pours on Jerome's face, making it glisten. Whatever strength left within his body had completely vanished, forcing him to topple totally onto the metal floor. Not only that, but Jerome's breathing pace began to soar and his vision began wobbling in and out of focus. Was he going to die? Was this some form of poison gas? A painful surge ran down from his head to his spine and throughout his whole body. The teenage Who tried to grab the top of his head but Freakshow's cane came swinging hard against his hands, knocking them away.

_"Jerome. Look up at me." _Freakshow's all most disembodied voice said calmly. He put the end of his cane beneath one side of Jerome's face and turned it upwards so once again they met eye to eye. _"Come on, look at me." _Jerome's eyes widened in terror as he saw Freakshow's face. To anyone else, it appeared as blue and mutilated as usual, but to Jerome, it was far, far worse!

The drug must have been messing with Jerome's brain waves and his vision. Whatever anyone else could see at the very moment, to him was distorted and twisted in nearly every aspect. In Jerome's current view, Freakshow's all ready distorted face appeared bright magenta instead of blue. His eyes that were really feral yellow now appeared a literally flaming orange and his multicoloured hair stood up in a burning blue flame. The right side of his cheek now appeared completely torn away with the left, both exposing the innerworkings of his jaw. Freakshow grinned sickly, smoke pouring out through his twisted teeth, _"You're looking ill, my dear friend. Maybe you should SIT DOWN!" _Roaring like a ferocious beast, Freaky elbowed Jerome hard in the chest and onto the floor in between the circling masked thugs.

_"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!" _These demented nameless masked Whos laughed uproariously down at the stripped drugged teenager. Their appearances had been altered in the eyes of Jerome as well. The masks seemed to have actually become the goons' faces! Maggots, spiders and all kinds of creepy crawlies stormed out through the nostrils, mouths ears and even eye lids of the illusioned faces, scaring the ever-loving crap out of Jerome!

_"Heh, heh, heh, heh!" _The queer blue masked Who chortled loudly and grabbing his side.

_"Ho, ho, ha, ha, ho, ha!" _A giant of a red masked Who yanked on the long chain of metal links, pulling the dazed and disillusioned Jerome up.

_"Take him away!" _Freakshow ordered, pointing down into the dark abyss behind the crowd of Whos with his cane. _"I want to see him in the cell in 10 minutes or less!"_

Jerome Eckhart was powerless to resist against the hundreds of hands that lifted the drugged Who above the floor. They led him out of the room with the red masked Who pulling the link chain at the lead. It was not like he was going to attempt to break away anyway. In his current state of mind, light-headed Jerome was floating limply throughout the dark depths of space, all most unconscious of what was going on around him. Even the rugged hands of the masked Whos lifting him could not be felt on the teenage Who's back. What was even more depressing was that Jerome was now unaware of the even worse terrors in store for him.

* * *

Meanwhile, back in the business district of Whoville, four thugs accompanied by a derranged mental patient were running down a damp and filth-ridden alleyway. The five of them were running out of breath and fast, but they had to keep running, at least until they could no longer hear the faint police sirens. Finally, they stopped running and took a rest by a couple of garbage cans.

One of the criminals put his hand to his ear and listened out for the sound of police cars. When he heard the sound of police sirens dying away completely, the thug took in a deep breath and looked over to his partners. "All right, we're in the clear, men. Take five." He then rested his hands on his knees and looked down at the various rubbish and filthy water surrounding his feet.

The other three escaped criminals all sighed heavily and collapsed against the rough walls of the alleyway. The escaped mental patient on the other hand still stood up against the wall, tapping the firing end of a Lugar against his head. He looked to his newly found comrades and asked them, "What are we gonna do now?"

The second of the four criminal escapees lifted his head but remained crouched down against the wall. "Well...I think we gotta lay low for a while. At least until all this dies down."

Lifting his hands from his knees, the first of the five in total lifted up his prison uniform sleeves and said, "I know a hideaway in the far end of Whoville. It's got alcohol and food stored away and the cops would never find us. Now...we need to choose a leader if we're to work together." He pointed to himself and stated before any of the others could speak, "I nominate myself, I accept and so it's decided. I am your boss and fearless leader."

"But that ain't no fear." The third degenerate criminal escapee pointed out dumbly.

"Tough squash!" The first escapee swiped the Lugar off of the mental patient and held it up. "Okay, new rule: until we can reach an agreement on leadership, the one holding this here Lugar is in charge. Okay?"

"Okay."

"'Kay."

"All right."

"That works." The mental patient crossed his arms and sat down on top of a covered garbage can. "Hey..." The others looked at him and he demanded angrily. "What about who's second in charge?!"

At that the four criminal escapees and mental patient broke out into an argument, a rather _loud _argument. Too bad for them that they had not kept quieter in the bickering as their yells and shouts caught the attention of a shadowed overseer...

"I can be third in command, no problem!" The fourth criminal escapee yelled, getting into the face of the second criminal escapee.

The second slapped his forehead and pushed the fourth back in the shoulder, "We're arguing about _second _in command, you idiot!"

**"HOLD IT RIGHT THERE, SCUM BAGS!!"**

The four criminal escapees and the derranged mental patient each stopped in mid-sentence and wide-eyed at the sound of that mighty and frightening yell. Each one of them looked at each other nervously and began looking around over their shoulders in futile search of the voice's origin. The first of the four criminal escapees held the group's only weapon, the Lugar in firing position. "Who's there...?"

_Fwoosh!_

A dark form quickly swept passed behind the five Whos, scarring the hell out of them and making them jump back to see nothing but darkness. Now really starting to panic, the first pulled the hammer back on the Lugar; ready to fire at this...whatever it was stalking them.

"I'm getting outta here." The third criminal escapee bit his finger nails and tried to make a run for it but the first grabbed him by the arm and held him in place.

"Oh, come on, Redgie." The first criminal escapee hissed angrily, pointing the firing end of the Lugar at his comrade's chin for a moment. "You're gonna run away from a 'voice'. For God's sake, you got locked up for quadruple homicide and armed theft and now you're being intimidated from some mystery voice?!"

_"Ha, ha, ha, ha!" _A low mocking laughter that seemed to grow louder by the second taunted the cowering group of criminals. It sounded sinister and threatening to the point of making the crooks shake like leaves and the fact that it was getting closer did not make them feel any more comfortable. _"You're not afraid?! You're not afraid?! Well, you should be!"_

_Swoosh!_

Out of nowhere, the dark form that had been stalking the four criminal escapees and mental patient swooped over them, casting a large horrific shadow. The escaped crooks screamed in terror as they saw the silhouetted winged form fly up in front of the shining full moon.

"Jesus Christ!" The second of the criminal escapees pointed up in terror and the demonic form the soared down from the sky and landed five feet away from them!

Vlad Vladikoff unfolded his wings, poked his head outward and yelled, "Boo!"

However, all the fear that had previously overtook the criminals' faces had drained away in a flash. Instead they just looked at the armoured black-bottom eagle in somewhat of confusion. The first of the five in total escapees asked Vlad, slowly lowering his Lugar, "...who the hell are you?"

Vlad put his hands on his sides and stood bravely before the four criminals and the derranged mental patient, saying boldly, "I have many names; Mr. Vladikoff, the eagle-eye of Nool, the winged devil of the skies, the-"

"We get the point." The fourth criminal escapee frowned dryly. He raised his eyebrow and asked the eagle, "Hey...aren't you that weirdo vulture that came into Whoville with that giant elephant guy?"

"I sir, am an eagle. That vulture thing is a common misconception." Vlad maintained his ground, placing his feet firmly on the ground and spreading his wings outward as if to attack. "My name is Vlad Vladikoff, or as you may call me...the eagle." He put his talons to his beak and mused, "No, wait, that's lame, that's lame. I can think of something better..."

But the leader of the group of criminals was not prepared to wait. "I don't care if you're the former Tsar of Whossia, you going down!" He lifted the Lugar upwards in firing position again and _**bang! **_A bullet shot out from the gun and struck Vlad in the breast case of his armour.

The force of the gun shot made Vlad stumble for a bit before he stated in monotone, "Oh, no. I am dead." He then collapsed on his back, not saying another word and his wings and head laying limp. The criminals and mental patient looked and each other silently.

They began muttering to each other until finally, the third criminal escapee was shoved forward in front of them, the leader snapping, "You go check it out, Andrew!"

"Okay, I'm going." The third criminal, now known as Andrew hobbles over across the alleyway to the motionless body of Vlad Vladikoff. When he had reached the eagle, Andrew gulped and kneeled down beside him. He then began feeling the metal breastplate where the bullet had struck.

"Well...?" The leader of the group called loudly over to Andrew, while the remaining two criminals and the mental patient stood behind him. "Is he dead or am I gonna have to scrabble for another bullet?"

"Uh..." Andrew began fiddling with the components attached to the unconscious Vlad's helmet. "I think so, Jamal. I-aaaagggghhhh!!" Before Andrew could continue any further, an electric shock ran up through his arm and the criminal was sent flying off his feet a few metres away. Andrew crashed against a wooden crate full of news papers, breaking the crate and flattened by the pouring out papers. To other criminals and mental patient's horror, Vlad Vladikoff rose up from the ground and onto his talons...as if he had not been shot in the first place!

Vlad reached up to his metal breastplate and wiped away the remains of the bullet, remarking darkly, "Is that _all...?"_

"He's still alive?!" The fourth of the escaped prisoners cried, shakily pointing at the black-bottom eagle. "That's impossible." He stopped to think for a moment. "That is unless you're wearing bullet-proof armour...then it would be very possible."

"Shut up, Doug!" The leader, now known as Jamal yelled at the verge of his patience. He snapped his fingers and pointed at Vlad, ordering his comrades, "Just get him, get him, **get him!"**

Following their leader's commands, Redgie and Doug charged in full speed at their enemy, waving their fists wildly. Meanwhile, Jamal and the unnamed mental patient took cover behind a few dented garbage cans and merely spectated the action taking place.

Seeing the charging goons approaching him dangerously, Vlad nervously pressed a button on the side of his helmet and whispered quietly, _"Uh, Larue...I've got myself two crooks coming my way. What do I do?"_

_"Point your left gauntlet at them and press the purple button! Quick!"_

Without thinking twice, Vlad flew up into the air, pointed his left gauntlet at the two goons and pressed the purple button. Within an instant, a pistol appeared on top of the gauntlet opened up and a number of long purple strands shot out of it towards the criminals. Both of them halted in their tracks and screamed as the purple strands coiled around them tightly.

"What the hell is this?!" Redgie yelled, trying in futile to tear the purple strands off of himself. They were made of some sticky rubber substance that neither of the criminals could remove. When they began struggling, things only got worse for them as the purple strands constricted against their bodies. "Aww, crap..." He and Doug them collapsed onto the damp and filth-ridden ground, flopping around like a couple of washed ashore fishes.

"Oh, jeez...uh..." Jamal grabs the unnamed mental patient and throws him in front into battle. "Y-you, whatever your name is. Get 'em!" Jamal then made like a banana and splitted down the alleyway, leaving the mental patient to fight against Vlad himself.

Vlad lowered down onto the ground and glared at the derranged mental patient. He raised his talons and did a 'bring it on' gesture, while saying, "Come on, ya bastard. Bring it."

The mental patient growled and picked up a metal bar laying on the ground. "Let's do iiiiit! Aaagh!" The maniac screamed ballistically and ran over to the eagle, swinging the bar madly. "I'm gonna knock your beak right off your face!"

The black-bottom eagle however just rolled his eyes and grabbed the metal bar in his talons. Thanks to the additional strength of his gauntlets, Vlad twisted the bar sideways, making the stunned maniac let go. "So, uh...what was that you were saying?" The large carnivorous bird twisted the bar with both gauntleted talons up some more and tossed it aside. "You were gonna 'knock my beak right off my face'?"

"Well, you're a...a..." In desperation, the unnamed mental patient picked up a brick and hurled it at the eagle. "Take that!"

Vlad simply advanced forward and grabbed the brick in his talons. "Weak." Again due to the great strength contributed by his gauntlet, Vlad crushed the brick to pieces. "Just weak, my friend. Now, if you just come with me peacefully..."

Instead, the mental patient pulled back his fist and tried to slug it at the eagle. But just like with the metal bar and brick, the extra strong gauntlets on Vlad's talons came into good use. The eagle caught the fist tight in the gauntlet, making the maniac gasped in pain and wriggled around like a little worm on a fishing hook.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Get off me!" The mental patient cried, trying to pull himself from the eagle's grip.

"You're the boss." Vlad released his grip from the mental patient and the latter began jumping up and down, while holding his throbbing hand. "Oh, but one more thing..."

"What?" The mental patient looked up and gulped to see Vlad's gauntleted talons pulled back.

Vlad scowled darkly, "Think fast..."

**POW!**

* * *

Meanwhile, the now former leader of the group, Jamal ran down through the city streets in a panic. He repeatedly took a look behind his shoulder to check if Vlad was not hot on his tail. Finally, he turned a corner on yet another alleyway and pressed his back flat against the wall. Jamal bit his lip and took one last peek to see if a certain carnivorous bird was following him. When he did...nothing. Vlad was absolutely nowhere in sight.

Wiping the sweat from his forehead away with the back of his hand, Jamal sighed heavily and crouched down in front of the wall. "That was a close one...phew!"

"Eh hem." A Russian voice made itself heard from behind Jamal. The criminal Who yelped and spun around to see none other than Vlad Vladikoff towering behind him. The eagle leaned forward and grinned toothily, "Hello."

Jamal remembered the Lugar gun held in his hand and aimed it up to the eagle to deliver another shot. Unfortunately for him, Vlad was quicker and knocked the gun right out of his enemy's hand, sending it across the alleyway and out of Jamal's reach. Now unarmed, the cornered criminal let out a shrill shriek as Vlad Vladikoff's large wings unleashed over him, covering his sight in darkness. **"Aaaaaarrrggghhhh! No! No! NO! Gaaaaaagghh!"**

When Jamal awakened, he felt a strong cold breeze fly past his face and the weight of his arms pulling them upwards. He blinked his eyes a few times and gasped when he saw an upside down Vlad Vladikoff glaring intensely at him! "Wha-?!" Jamal took a quick look of his surroundings and his mouth gaped wide upon discovering that he was hanging in midair!! "What the **fuck?!" **His feet were tied up in a thick rope with a long cord tied up to what the Who could best make out to be a gargoyle statue.

Vlad smirked and pointed downwards, or in Jamal's upside down view, upwards. Jamal looked in the direction in which Vlad was pointed and nearly had a heart attack. He was hanging at least six stories high from a building. A very old and abandoned one by the look of it. "What have you-?!"

"Don't worry, I've all ready let the cops know of your whereabouts." Vlad held up a dark blue rectangular box to the captured criminal and then tucked it away. "You and those other punks have now got yourselves' tickets back to the big house."

Whimpering in fear, Jamal stuttered, looking at the black-bottom eagle in terror. "You...who, _what...what are you?!"_

Vlad looked back at the defeated Jamal oddly as if the latter had just asked him to bit his limbs off. But then Vlad rolled his eyes a bit before leaning into Jamal's face and spreading his wings out theatrically. "Who me, bro?" Jamal nodded and the eagle continued, "Well, I think you can call me the..." He paused, taking a brief moment to think this one over. "Uh... the black? No, grey? No, no, no, dark! Yeah, that's it. Dark...uh...eagle! Okay. That works perfectly." Vlad, now swelling full of pride sneered widely in a confused Jamal's face. "You may address me as..." He finished loudly and full of self-righteousness. _"The Dark Eagle!!"_

Jamal merely gulped at those last three words. The Dark Eagle. The eagle himself just laughed cockily and roughly shoved the criminal forward, making him spin around fast in air dizzily. "Woah, woah, woah, woah!"

"See you later, sucker!" Vlad laughed uproariously, flapped his wings a few times and pressed the orange button on his gauntlet. The rocket attached to his back came to life and within seconds, the black-bottom eagle shot up into the sky, leaving a stream of smoke behind. Vlad did a few spins and loops in the sky and with one final guffaw, the bird speed off like a shooting star.

Dangling helplessly from the long cord of rope, Jamal heard the sound of police sirens, the sound he had ran tirelessly from all morning grew louder and louder. The defeated criminal let out a pathetic groan. _"Ma was right. I shoulda become a dentist..."_

* * *

In a small cramped room covered in darkness, Jerome Eckhart was sitting bare in fur behind an old wooden table. It had numerous carvings on the surface, some of which spelt words and phrases. When he carefully felt the carvings, Jerome made most of them out as 'bastard', 'fuck' and all kinds of curses known. But it was not like Jerome could even see them. There was not a single light inside the room, not even one coming from the crack of the door; wherever the door was.

Jerome has been sitting in that room for God knows how long now. He was shivering violently without any of his clothes on, with each strand of fur standing up on end. The teenage Who's mind was still felt like a scrambled mess. It was all most good that he could not see through the room's darkness, the violent images could only torment him when he could. Jerome could not figure out what he wanted more at the moment: to get out of Freakshow's cruel grasp or to get this crap out of his system.

Closing his eyes and rubbing his eyelids, the clammy and sickly Jerome retched for what was the sixth time that morning. He hated the whole idea of retching, it was all most as worse as the vomiting itself.

There a loud creaking noise and Jerome kept his eyes closed shut, not baring to see the faint glow of light coming from behind the door. Then came the loud clanging of the metal door slamming shut, plunging the room back into darkness once again. When the teenage Who heard the sound of foot steps, he was certain that someone else was in the room with him.

_"Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh, heh..." _The familiar sadistic laugh cut through Jerome's very soul on each little 'heh'. It was him. _"Jerome, I'm...sorry that things had to end up this way. But the point I'm trying to prove is far too...important to pass up."_

_Click. _Jerome's eyes squinched shut at the sight of the sudden bright light that was switched on. It dangled down from the ceiling and swayed left and right like a pendulum. The homicidal and psychotic Who sat in front of Jerome in a chair of his own. His twisted face was filled to brim with arrogance and self-confidence. But to Jerome...that sight was even worse.

_"..." _Freakshow stayed silent for the moment, his wicked eyes staring right into Jerome's very being. He was holding something in his hand under the table and by the way his arm was moving, he was fiddling around with it like some colourful toy an infant would be playing with. After a short while, he spoke, "...my one regret...is that you were the only ideal candidate for my experiment. Otherwise, I promise you I would have chosen someone else."

Was Jerome listening to him? It was hard to tell. His face writhed continuously in agony just by looking at his captor. Anyone else looking at Freakshow at the moment would have all ready gotten used to his horrific face, but that was not Jerome's case. In his vision, Freakshow's multicoloured hair was once again standing up in a roaring blue flame and his face had gone from blue to bright magenta. "...am I supposed to believe that?"

_"I don't see why not." _Again, the right side of his cheek now appeared completely torn away with the left, both exposing the inner workings of his jaw. _"You and I used to be very good friends. But tragedy and a chemical vat tore that to sunder, along with my mug." _Wriggling white and green maggots were now crawling out through his monstrous teeth and all around his face.

"Jojo, you're the only one who's tried to tear apart our friendship. But..." He moved his hand towards the metal door behind Freakshow. "...you can let me go, right now. You just..." He was silenced in mid-sentence when Freakshow held up his hand in front of his prisoner's face.

Freakshow feral yellow eyes had once again, in Jerome's vision turned literally flaming orange. _"I can't, Jerome. I just can't. Even if I wanted to, I just can't. Sorry." _He looked underneath the damaged and carved table and the object he was still holding in his hand. The psycho looked back up at Jerome and asked in a surprisingly dark tone for the subject, "Are you hungry?"

In truth, Jerome was feeling kind of hungry for a bite or two, but he could not overlook the possibility this was just bait for a trap. Hence, he shook his head, "No...no, I'm not."

_"Hey, that's cool." _With that, Freakshow lifted the object he was holding up from underneath the table. It was but a big, red, shiny and ever so delicious apple. The small deformed had all ways had a thing for these delectable fruits, back when he was a little toddler playing with rattle. He could never pass one up, especially the red juicy ones. But this was not the same image poor Jerome was seeing at the moment. What did the drugged teenage Who see? Not a delicious fruit...but a bat. One rabid and beastly with black fur and piercing red eyes. It squealed and shrieked and foamed at the mouth in a violent rage as Freakshow held it tight in his beast. _"However, I am hungry. Very hungry indeed."_

Jerome shook his head worriedly, sweat forming on his forehead and his pupils shrinking down to microscopic size. "No. No, you're not really going to..."

_"Oh, really?"_ Grinning hungrily, Freakshow's mouth opened up wide as if on hinges and held the apple/bat up closer for consumption. _"Here it goes..."_

"Stop it!" Jerome yelled angrily and desperately, grabbing the sides of his head and yanking hard on his fur. "Knock it off, man!"

Freakshow began licking his serpent tongue smoothly against the shining red side of his apple. Meanwhile in Jerome's vision, the blue-face menace was slipping his monstrous tongue down through the sharp jaws of the black bat. It was a sight that all most made the teenage Who turn as green as the Whoville councilmen. Next, Freakshow moved the apple/bat head up closer into his mouth, ready for one mighty chomp. _"So close..."_

"You're off your rocker, dude! You're sick!" Jerome's voice began to crack up as what he saw as bat came inches away from a plummet down into the gullet. "Stop it, I said! Stop it!"

_Chomp! _Freakshow sank his morbid death down through the smooth service of the apple peel at into the sweet juicy insides. His incisors yanked off a huge chunk of the fruit and his molar grinded away and the sweet delight. "Mmmmm..."

Tears were now streaming out of Jerome's eyes now and he saw the now headless 'bat' go limp in Freakshow's fist. The magenta-faced and blue flaming haired Freakshow grinned widely and wickedly at his former associate, with now maggots and red blood dripping out from between his teeth. _"Fruity!"_

Unable to take it any longer, Jerome jumped from his chair and screamed, "You're a crazy person! For God's sake, you're a freakin'_...lunatic!"_

_"Well, I all ready know what you are, but tell me...what exactly am I?" _Freakshow stood up from his own seat and looked up at Jerome menacingly. Surely, Jerome could have attacked the psycho and beat the ever-loving crap out of him. That is if it had not been for the fact that Caine's drug was now really starting to kick in. His version was now completely out of focus and the graphic images were becoming even worse. _"Come on, come on! What am__**...I?!"**_

Jerome tried to turn around and run, but gasped at seeing a towering goon in black wearing a dark green mask in front of him. "Hey...how did you get in here?" He was actually more confused than scared by the masked thug's presence.

Cracking his head left and right and cracking his own knuckles, the green masked goon few replied, _"Came through the back door." _The thug's appearance once again was being altered in Jerome's view. His two large cold eyes merged into one, ala Cyclops and his teeth had grown extra long and yellow with two extra rows coming out from behind them. Also, a long orange and black striped and wart covered tongue spewed out from the goon's jaw which hung loosely. _"Feeling a little soft in the head, Eckhart?"_

In a panic, Jerome swung his fist quickly and that goon's horrific face, but the latter was quicker and grabbed the teenage Who's fist in his hand. The thug laughed cruely and shoved Jerome backwards with only one hand. The drugged Who landed flat on the table's carved-up surface and shut his eyes to protect them from the dangling bright light above. He pierced his eyes open and saw Freakshow's face in front of the light looking back down at him.

_"Heh, heh." _Freakshow's 'flaming' hair now spread out across his entire face, engulfing it in a crackling bright blue. _"Come on, __**what-am-I?!" **_In reality, pieces of apple fell out from mouth and landed on Jerome, but in the latter's fantasy, more blood from the crushed up head of the bat was dropping and splattering against his face.

"You're a...a...you're a..." Jerome took in a deep breath and screamed as loud as he could, "You're a **FREAK!!"**

Freakshow threw back his head and crackled like lightning, more pieces of apple/blood spitting out of his mouth. He took the apple/headless bat held in his hand and took another large ravage bite, making him moan in pleasure once again. _"Oooh, so goood..."_

Jerome could not help but cover his eyes at the sight of the 'headless bat' being torn apart by Freakshow's all ready blood-stained teeth. "This is an ever-loving freak-out, for God's sake!"

_"Aww, don't look at it in THAT kind of perspective, Jerome." _Freakshow all most looked sympathetic with Jerome's look of discontent and strife. The dark green masked thug, accompanied by a small group of multicoloured masked goons that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. _"After all, your mind is only going under the same process as everyone else's in this kind of situation. It's getting a little..." _he snapped his fingers and finished quietly, _"...tune-up." _

The drugged teenage Who did not respond that time. Instead, he just placed his hands tight over his eyes. He just could not stand it anymore; it was just too much for his mind to bare. But Freakshow and his goons would have none of that. They pried Jerome's pale and sweaty hands away from his eyes and forced the lids wide open so he could not look away.

_"Just stop trying to deny it, Eckhart!" _Freakshow spoke slowly and in somewhat of a monotone fashion._ "The sad bitter truth is: insanity is as common as the tides. No, it is even as common as the purr of a spoiled overweight cat being stroked against its back. As common as a playful bark of the faithful dog fetching the tossed stick for its master." _Caught up in the mood of his little speech, Freakshow grabbed Jerome by the hair and pulled him up so their noses were only millimetres away. _"NO! No, no, no, no, no. Insanity…insanity is as common..." _Freakshow's teeth clenched tightly and his eyes bulged so far out of their sockets they could have fallen right out. _"...as the setting sun and rising moon."_

"..." Jerome said nothing and looked blankly at the psycho that just heaved slowly in and out. But soon he responded plainly, yet obviously sarcastically, "Wow, you're a crook, psycho, chemist and a poet. Next thing I know, you'll be painting the perfect replica of the _Whona Lisa."_

The homicidal Who just grinned toothily and giggled slightly as he took a long metal bar from a indigo masked goon. "Here's a new idea..." he frowned crossly. "Shut the Hell up." He raised the metal bar over his head and brought it down to Jerome's head. **Klang! **The drugged teenage Who let out a painful groan, his vision fading out to pitch black...

* * *

The blood red sky that was just previous roaring ferociously as the criminals marched through Whoville had finally begun to die down to its former dark blue. All the escaped convicts and mental patients had now been broken up from their large army and were now being scattered throughout the city. Some even made last resort escape attempts from the authorities through the filthy sewer tunnels. But one question: what pray tell was causing this big speed bump in the anarchy motorway? The answer to that would be in the form of a massive armoured winged creature soaring across the roof tops of Whoville, appearing as menacing as some demonic vampire.

In the business district, on the narrow and cramped _Kazeimy Street, _this dark winged creature landed majestically on top of the roof of a currently closed car production factory. After planting his talons securely onto the cold and rain-soaked concrete roof, the Dark Eagle raised his head and stared around his area. There was nothing but a few roof vents, some metal barrels, wooden crates and the heavy rain pouring down heavily and loudly.

Once the armoured black-bottom eagle was certain that he was alone on the roof top, he pressed the button on the side of his helmet. _"Dark Eagle to Purply; Dark Eagle to Purply. Come in Purply." _He spoke lowly and quietly just in case someone was indeed listening.

Dr. Larue's voice replied in annoyance through the communicator, _"Vlad, for the last time, will you please drop the codenames?" _She sounded pretty irritated with all the unnecessary communication protocol. _"I mean, Dark Eagle sounds good, but PURPLY?! That doesn't even make sense, for God's sake!"_

"Ooh, Ms. Snippy." Vlad Vladikoff, or as he was naming himself at the moment l 'The Dark Eagle' rolled his eyes and continued, "Look, I've been searching Whoville up and down and...well let's just say you guys back there better order me a damn good claw massage and hammock for when this is finished."

_"Eh...we'll see what we can do, but I don't think I'll be able to get you a claw massage. Maybe a hand massage, but I'm not sure if that'll be the same and..."_

Ned McDodd's annoyed voice cut the eagle and scientist Who abruptly, _"Guys, Guys! I think we're getting slightly off topic here!"_ He next spoke directly to Vlad, _"Okay 'Dark Eagle', have you found my son or at least his psycho girlfriend?"_

"Sorry, 'Commander-in-chief', haven't caught a single glimpse of either one." The Dark Eagle shook his head, while still eyeing the roof suspiciously.

_"What about that slime, Caine? Any sign of him at all?"_

"Nope. All I've been able to round up are a bunch of cut-throat, blood-thirsty crooks and derranged mental patients." The armoured black-bottom eagle looked down at his talons that were stained with some blood of goons he had beaten the living tar out of, along with his some of his own. "God, those bastards sure bite and scratch a lot more than they punch and kick."

Ned moaned tiredly, followed by the sound of him hitting his head. _"Well, this is just a trip down the park, isn't it?! We've nearly enough rounded up the crooks that have just about torn Whoville to shreds, and yet we've still got the head honcho himself running free! We just can't win, can we?!"_

Suddenly, a male voice that none of the three recognised spoke up on the communicator, _"Uh, Hello? Is this Domiwhos Pizza?"_

This caught the black-bottom eagle by surprise as he asked confused, "Wait, wait...what? I'm sorry, but who the clover is this?"

_"Oh, hey, Muriel. I'll take a double cheese, double sauce and double pepperoni." _The male voice continued carelessly without listening to what Vlad just said. _"Oh, and maybe a medium-sized bottle of diet cola. That sounds like just the thing for this kind of night."_

Dr. Larue answered this voice for Ned and Vlad, sounding a bit weirded out. "Um, I'm sorry, sir. But I think you have the wrong number."

_"Really? Then who's this?"_

_"This is the Mayor, Dr. Larue and...Hey, hey, hey!" _Ned shook his head and demanded of this mystery caller crossly. _"Who the heck is this anyway? And for the record, how do you even get this private number?!"_

_"...yeah, anyway like I said, I'll have a double cheese, double sauce, double pepperoni-"_

The Mayor, Dr. Larue and the Dark Eagle had had enough and simultaneously yelled loudly into their communicator or phone, _**"GET OFF THE LINE, YOU BOOB!!"**_

_"Okay, okay, I'm hanging up! Jeeze...!" _There was a click, followed by a faint drone, thus meaning the mystery caller had at last hung up.

After waiting a brief moment, Larue sighed exasperatedly along with Ned and the Eagle, _"Ugh...finally! Who was that guy, anyhow?"_

"Well, I don't know!" The Dark Eagle groaned, rubbing his helmet over with his gauntleted talons. "It was probably just some punk who was hungry for some cooked soft bread with some sauce, cheese and meat toppings." He then licked the rim of his beak hungrily. "Hey, that doesn't sound too bad at the moment."

_"Hey, Vlad this is no time for pizza and..." _But at that moment, Ned stopped speaking in mid-sentence for some reason. The connection to the Mayor's communicator was still active, yet his voice could not be heard at all.

Both the Dark Eagle and Larue waited for a couple of moments, that is until the large bird kept his talons to the button on the side of his helmet and asked, "Mayor? Mr. Mayor...? Mayor McDodd, are you still there?"

_"..." _No response.

_"Mr. Mayor?" _Dr. Larue's voice chirped up from other end of the communicator.

Ned's voice at last spoke again over the communicator, _"...guys...do you hear that?"_

"Hear what? I can't-wait..." But soon enough Vlad began to hear a noise; the same noise that Ned was hearing. "I hear it." It sounded like...

_Vrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!_

Sounded like...

_Vrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!_

Like...

_**VRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!**_

**CRASH!! **

Our Dark Eagle let out a yell as he rammed backwards through the air by the _wham_ strong lightning-fast force. He whirled out past the thundering rain and landed back skidding across the concrete roof, rolling out onto the very edge. Luckily for him he stopped where did; he was only a slight nudge away from a long plummet to the ground. Groaning and taking a hold of his aching left side, the armoured black-bottom eagle stumbled to his talons and looked back in the direction from which he had been sent flying from. His eyes narrowed and 'teeth' cringed at what he saw, _"You!"_

"Ha, ha, ha, ha!" Green Lilith was sitting on top of her large blood red motorbike, its lights glowing brightly like the fires of Hell. She twisted on the throttle, making the bike roar loudly like some savage carnivorous beast. Lilith herself looked ten times more dangerous than any of the escaped criminals and a hundred times crazier than any of the escaped mental patients. Shaking her green hair violently over her face, the psycho teenage Who cackled like the villainous little witch she was. "You're road-kill, Vladikoff! Huahahahahaha!"

_"Vlad, what's wrong?!" _Dr. Larue asked her eagle friend in worry over the communicator. _"Are you okay?"_

The Dark Eagle pressed the button on the side of his helmet, saying to Mary Larue while still shaking off the pain, "I'll have to call you back. Talk to you later." He grabbed the back of his neck and twisted off its painful crick, before glowering back over to Green Lilith, snarling darkly, "Okay, Vikally, where's your boyfriend?"

"Why'd you wanna know? Are you in _love _with him!"

"Don't you play games with me!"

Green Lilith mimicked the eagle exactly in a high-pitched tone, _"Don't you play games with me!"_

Getting angry with Lilith's attitude, the eagle growled warningly, "Hey, knock that off!"

_"Hey, knock that off!"_

"Stop it! This is a serious matter!"

Still grinning wickedly, Lilith said very quickly, "Alosersays'what'?"

"What?"

"Exactly."

Now the Dark Eagle had had enough or this little green clad punk. He spread out his massive wings and yelled, "Okay, that's it! If you are not going to respond to negotiation, then that leaves me with only one option..." He moved his talons deep into his cape and took out a couple sharp black darts. "...senseless violence!"

Revving up her bike one more time, Green Lilith screeched crazily as she slammed her foot on the acceleration pedal, forcing her red motorcycle forward at full speed ahead. **"I'll show senseless violence, you beak-faced bastard! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"**

Still standing his firm ground, the Dark Eagle tossed the sharp black darts up and down, waiting all most patiently for his oncoming attack via motorbike. After tossing them up into the air and catching them for a third time, he noticed the motorbike being rode by the insane Lilith coming deadly close. The black-bottom eagle sighed, rolling his eyes, _"And here we go." _Choosing his timing just right, he bent down on his leg while leaning towards one side, held the darts over his head and...

_Pang! Pang! Screeeee!_

Green Lilith's red motorcycle's wheels exploded, causing the vehicle to screech over onto one side, while sending sparks flying like mad. In the confusion, Vlad leaped out of the direction that the wild bike to avoid direct contact and at the last minute grabbed the screaming Green Lilith by the shoulder when she was close enough. The red motorcycle however was sent flying off the edge off and plummeting straight down to the ground with a loud _crash!!_

The Dark Eagle let out a long whistle, watching as a small plume of smoke drifted up over the roof edge. He then looked down at the struggling Green Lilith in his grasp, "Wow, that was easier than beating Horton in charades. Now to take care of you..." But he toppled over in pain when he felt Green Lilith's fist swing up against the bottom of his beak. "Oww! You little bitch!" Next thing the large armoured bird knew, Green Lilith was all over him, swiping her claws all over him wherever possible. "Get off you little psycho before I really sock you one!" When he knew Lilith was not getting off of him any time soon, Dark Eagle groaned and tucked his legs and talons up in front of his nemises' stomach. "All right, you asked for this!"

Thrusting his legs outward into her stomach, the Dark Eagle sent Green Lilith hard across the roof top and landed on her back in a large murky puddle. Once she pulled her head out of the muddy waters and sat up in the puddle, Green Lilith spat some of the water out of her mouth and wiped mud from her face. She yelled both angrily and offended, "You can't do that to me! I'm a girl!"

"Oh, sorry!" The Dark Eagle got up and hobbled over to her getting all apologetic. But the daft massive bird had actually bought the trick as if buying a shoddy car from a shifty salesman. Green Lilith instantly jumped up to her feet and pulled something out from her silver utility built. "Sucker!" It was a thick dagger which the psychotic green haired Who thrusted straight in the direction of her opponent's chest insanely. "Eat cold hard steel!"

"Nice try." Vlad grinned and grabbed the dagger tight in his gauntleted talons. Without the slightest trace of effort, he tightened his grip and crushed the blade and bended in downwards. "Easy as one, two, three, Lilith."

Starting to become desperate, Green Lilith decided to use her brawn and tried to slam her fist into her enemy's gut. Once again, this attempt proved futile as the eagle's trusty armour kicked and Lilith's punch did not even leave a dent. All it resulted in was the girl let out a wail of pain and jumping up and down, holding her hurt hand as she did. "Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow!"

Now chuckling loudly in self-pride, the Dark Eagle looked down at talons cockily, saying, "Gonna give up yet, Vikally? Honestly, you're only making an idiot of yourself here." But his cocky attitude changed in an instead at hearing a loud 'bzzzzzt' noise coming from out of nowhere. "What's that?"

Green Lilith spun around and to the eagle's horror, the girl was holding in both her hands large sparkling crocodile clips connected together by a long black cord. "Surprise, hot stuff!!" The static electricity that was being given off by this thing was making her hand stand up on end. "Let's take it up a notch!"

The Dark Eagle gulped nervously. This thing could do some serious damage, even with him wearing armour. It could put up with knives and bullets, but Larue said nothing but electricity. "Now, now, let's not blow things out of proportion here."

"I'm gonna turn you into fried eagle." Green Lilith giggled hysterically as she waved the sparkling crocodile clips around. "I'm gonna make you pay for hurting my little Freaky baby, you jerk!" She held the crocodile clips close to her chest for a moment and continued her sick little rant, "He loves me, you know! Do you know how many times he has nailed me? I can't even remember myself! And once this is all over, I'm gonna nail him so hard until his pelvis breaks! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"

The armoured black-bottom eagle had to think of something fast to get out of this situation his cockiness had gotten himself into. "Yeah, well, uh...uh..." Starting to sweat at the heat of the electric sparks given off by the clips, Dark Eagle finally came up with an idea. He grinned smugly at first, then pointed plainly to Green Lilith's waist. "Hey, Vikally, that suit's getting a little tight, isn't it?"

"What...?" Lilith stopped and looked down at her waist which seemingly appeared to bulge and stretch out against her clothes. "Oh, my God, I'm getting fat!" Using this time to his advantage, Dark Eagle snatched one of the crocodile clips out of Lilith's hand and clipped it hard onto her arm. Lilith stopped for a second, then her eye pupils shrank. **"AAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!" **The girl's body irrupted into bright blue sparks, revealing parts of her skeleton.

Vlad covered his eyes with his massive wing from the bright blue light. Finally, after ten seconds the electric sparks died down and the black-bottom eagle removed his wing from his view. Green Lilith stood there staggering with her whole body charred and her hair completely sticking outwards. "Hey...Vikally." He leaned forward and tapped her on the shoulder. "You all right?"

Green Lilith looked down at her charred finger and licked it slightly. Then she smiled goofily at Dark Eagle, speaking dizzily, "Heh, heh. Wow, I taste a lot like chicken..." She grinned widely, revealing her completely blood soaked teeth before her eyes rolled up and she collapsed backwards on her back with a thud.

"Oh, dear." The Dark Eagle kneeled down beside Green Lilith's fried body and touched the side of her neck. There was still a pulse, meaning she was still alive. "Okay, okay." He pressed the button on the side of his helmet and spoke into it. "Dark Eagle to Purply; Dark Eagle to Purplyy. Come in Purply."

Dr. Larue's voice came back in reply over the communicator in a sigh, _"Yeah, it's Purply here. What is it...'Dark Eagle'?"_

"I have news that might please you and the 'Commander-in-chief: I've got Green Lilith with me, disarmed and captured."

_"You're not serious, are you?!"_

"Trust me, Purply. Freakshow's little whooker is within our grasp." The Dark Eagle grinned to himself, rubbing the back of his talons against his armoured chest. He then said seriously to Larue, while still checking Lilith's unconscious body. "But you might want to send some paramedics here along with a straitjacket. Lilith's had a little...accident. It's not pretty. We're on the rooftop of the car production factory on _Kazeimy Street."_

However, Dr. Larue sounded a lot more concerned with something else than the news of Green Lilith's defeat._ "Okay, I'll inform Commissioner Martyn and Lieutenant Knox immediately and send paramedics and cops over there ASAP. But Vlad...the second they get there, we need you to get over here in the underground storage area."_

"Why? What's the matter?"

* * *

In the underground storage area itself, Dr. Larue was sitting in a small stool in front of a clear desk, holding a communicator to her ear. She spoke into it clearly to her black-bottom eagle friend, "Trust me, it's urgent..." She took something out from her pocket and dropped it lightly onto the desk. It was a small white envelop. "...we've just received a message from an old friend."

_"Old friend? Who are you talking about?"_

"...I'm talking about small, blue and hideous." Mary Larue took her a desk lamp and shone it brightly over the seal of the envelop. The seal itself was made of purple a line made to look like a big grin. Above the purple 'grin' was a large green circle with a left flick on top to make it look wicked. Next to the large green 'wicked eye' was a smaller circle of bright yellow made to look like a normal eye. The whole thing was a 'wicked grin'. Freakshow's 'wicked grin'...

* * *

**(A/N) And I will end it there, everyone. I hope you all enjoyed how I described Freakshow's mental torture of poor Jerome in this chapter. I kind of got the whole idea for the bat thing from those stunts the famous singer Ozzy Osbourne used to pull off. Also, I dunno about Vlad's new codename, The Dark Eagle. That sound all right to you readers? I, myself specifically enjoyed writing the part with Vlad/Dark Eagle vs. Green Lilith, but that's just me. Well, anyway, in the next chapter, it's up to the 'Dark Eagle' to locate where Freakshow is and save Jerome before the latter's mind is completely torn apart. Until then, Read and Review!**


	15. Chapter Fourteen: Eagle to the rescue

**(A/N) All right, everyone, I am back with chapter fourteen of my story. Now, this chapter is where Vlad Vladikoff/Dark Eagle must work fast to locate where Freakshow is keeping Jerome Eckhart and rescue him before the teenage Who's mind is completely torn to sunder. That and he have to at least try and take down the blue-faced menace for good. Can the armoured black-bottom eagle pull it off? And what is up with the letter from Freakshow himself? Well, you will have to read on see for yourselves. But one more thing; just to let you know, since I am coming near the end of this story, the following chapters might not be as long as the previous ones. But hey, they can't all be long ones that you can't finish in one setting, now can't they? Didn't think so. Enjoy this chapter.**

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Eagle to the Rescue**

A bright flash of neon light destroyed the pitch darkness that overtook Jerome Eckhart's sight. He was sitting down on his knees with his head lowered and eyes closed. The teenage Who had been sitting there ever since he came back into consciousness and realised that his left ankle had been chained to what he felt to be a large metal ball. Yet even with light shining down upon him, Jerome still remained where he was, eyes closed and not stirring an inch. The only part of him that did even move was his chest that slowly moved in and out as he breathed slowly. This poor Who had been gone through so much psychological torment over the past hour that now...he just did not care. He did not care what was going to happen to him now; be it even further torture or even death. Jerome just did not give a bloody damn anymore. All he could do now was sit there and wait for whatever Freakshow had in store next for him...

_"Ah, you are awake. Finally." _The familiar sinister and smug voice of Freakshow McDodd rang out like a voice in a large hollow cave. _"Now then...are you ready to proceed with your further 'treatment', Jerome Eckhart? Because I most certainly am!"_

Jerome raised his head slowly and opened his darkened eyelids slightly, saying with an emotionless voice, "Why should I even before to resist? You've done all you can all ready." He looked down at his finger and touched the top of each fingertip as he listed out all of Freakshow's twisted little games. "You have stripped me down to my bare fur, chained me up like some wild animal taken into captivity and doped me up like some weirdo in a mental hospital. What more can you possibly do to me to make my situation any worse?"

_"Hmmm, you know...it's funny. I've been thinking that over carefully myself." _Freakshow's voice continued with sounding a little confused himself. _"I mean, you're absolutely right; I've done all those things to you, so where I can go from there?" _The voice paused and then spoke once again, now sounding somewhat excited. _"Oh! Oh, oh, I know! It's so obvious! Why didn't I think of it before?! Huahahahahahaha..." _A sharp whistling noise and immediately the sound of shuffling feet followed.

The teenage Who just sat there and waited patiently, lowering his head again and closing his eyes. After waiting a few minutes, he heard the growing sound of wheels moving against the floor coming towards him from the front. _'Oh, dear. What's he up to now?' _Jerome opened one eyelid, soon followed by the other. What he saw before him was a silver polished table with wheels attached to its legs for it to move about freely. But it was not the table itself that made Jerome suspicious; it was what was _on _the table. There were three brown ceiled envelops, each with a capital letter on the front; A, B and C. He let a painful groan escape his throat and said, "Okay...I'll bite. What's with all these envelopes?"

Freakshow's face responded with a chuckle, _"It's simple, my dear Jerome. I've been planning on what I was going to do that would completely tear you mind to shreds for some time now." _His disembodied voice then moaned and sighed, _"But alas, I just couldn't find one that would top the other." _Like a faucet, the blue-faced menace's voice switched back to lively as he next said, _"That is why I've come to this one conclusion to settle the matter...I will let you pick for me."_

"What...?" Jerome deadpanned groggily, rubbing the side of his own throbbing head.

_"Come on now, you heard me quite clear." _Freakshow giggled like a playful little child, egging his friend to play a good game of dodge ball with him. _"It's up to you now. For this occasion and one occasion only, your fate is in your own hands. Pick your poison."_

Jerome clearly knew that there was no point in resisting this little game of the psychotic homicidal Who. If he refused, Freakshow and the countless insane masked goons that were unmistakably hiding within the shadows of the dark room would slaughter him like a dog. He raised his week hands into the air and shrugged lethargically, "Okay...okay...fine then." He lifted himself up onto his heavy feet with some difficulty considering how kneeling on them for a while had made them feel quite numb. "I'll play along..." Jerome looked over the three labelled envelops uncaring. It did not matter which one he picked. Each one was a one-way ticket to further torture until most likely death. "..." The only thing he could do was deliberately stall, just to piss the homicidal Who that was keeping him hostage off.

_**"Choose!"**_Freakshow's obviously irritated voice snapped sharply out of the darkness. Putting one hand over his face so he could not see, Jerome reached out his other hand and placed it upon the top of a random brown envelope before him. _**"Yes! Excellent choice!" **_The teenage Who felt the random brown envelope being moved out from underneath his hand, followed instantly by the sound of the top of it being torn off. A few seconds pause, until Freakshow's voice murmured, _**"Oh, yes...lovely, lovely, lovely! You have just made a fantastic choice, Eckhart! It is one of my most favoured options!"**_

Removing his hand from his face, Jerome looked wearily at the silver polished metal table placed in front of him. The only two brown envelopes left on it were the ones labelled 'A' and 'C'. He had unintentionally picked envelope 'B' as his fate. Jerome lowered his hand placed them on his knees, while shutting his eyes again as the table was then wheeled away out of the bright sight. He had picked his poison and now had to wait for it to be administered upon him. He breathed in and grunted as he exhaled, "...bring it on, you sick bastard."

_"Oh, I'll 'bring it on', Eckhart. I sure will bring it on." _The light shining down on brightly on Jerome's body dimmed down until whatever room he was in had been once again cloaked in black. _"What I've got waiting for you makes me so happy...oh, I just feel like singing!"_

_**Flash! **_

Suddenly, thousands of lights flashed on in the massive and dark room, illuminating it in vivid neon magenta, green, blue, yellow, every colour you would find in a childhood carnival. They were all arranged in a disorganised fashion and flickered on and off repeatedly, causing the shock Jerome to rub his irritated eyes. Instruments from tubas, to drums, to pipes, to clarinets, to violins and all most every other orchestral and non-orchestral instrument anyone in Whoville would own played loudly out of tune and pace behind all the lights in the shadows. Coloured masked goons, be they big and lumbering or small and fast started running fast around the bare furred Jerome like lunatics, holding up flaming torches and skeletons on chains and such.

To some Whos that could have been in Jerome's position would have been a lot more surprised than scared at the moment. But like all the torment the teenage Who had endured even before this, his psychological case was different from that of others'. The drug that he had been gassed with by Freakshow before was still taking its effect on his mind. It was not as dangerously effective than it was earlier, but it was still able to twist his vision in the blue-faced menace's liking. Horrific images of macabre and savage gore had replaced all the corny and flashy lights and tricks in his eyes.

"Stop it...stop all this..." Jerome covered his entire face with his arms, but they were pried away by the large hands of two masked goons. They shoved them behind his back and two small masked goons forcibly opened his eyelids so that he was forced to see the illusions induced by the toxic drug. "Unhand me, you damn dirty apes! Or I will, I will..." A large goon elbowed Jerome in the gut, foiling any attempt to resist them. He was like a fly caught up in an elaborate spider web and Freakshow was a goliath tarantula, followed in suit by his black widow henchmen.

**"Gah, ha, ha, hoo, ha, heh, heh, heh, hoo, hoo, ha, ha, ha, ha!!"** Freakshow voice became clear enough to sound like he was in the very same room. "Come on, you guys; bring the worthless, diseased little rat to me!" The goons obliged and dragged Jerome across the floor, their waving hands covering up his vision. They then dropped the teenage Who back onto the ground and yanked his head upwards to look straight up at the feared one standing before him. It was him.

Freakshow stood there; his feet very close enough to give a good kick up in Jerome's jaw. He was still dressed-up in the same black clad attire as from before, while still holding his cane in his hand and bowler hat on his head. The homicidal Who glared down grimly at Jerome, surprisingly without the slightest look of twisted madness or vicious sadism. He looked all most...dare it be said, like the regular Jojo McDodd he used to be. Dry, brooding and gloomy. Why all it took for him to act like his former Who self was his face to be fixed up like it was before, but that was _never _going to happen. Not in a million light-years.

Freakshow licked his ripped up and shredded lips, that if whatever was left could be considered as lips. He told his former associate soullessly, but with only the slightest indication of strain in his disembodied voice, _"Now do you see what a cruel, sick joke the world is, Jerome...?" _He then screamed abruptly, getting into Jerome's face and making himself appear magenta furred and blue flaming haired once again in the teenage Who's distorted vision. _"This world we live in is fuel of savage beasts fuelled by greed, gluttony, wrath and every other sin there is out there in the world." _He tossed the long black cane, which in Jerome's vision looked like a long black venomous snake up into the air and caught it in both hands. _"Do you now see the world in my view, Jerome? Or better yet, do you see the world for what it really is? A black festering cesspool of pain and misery?!"_

"No." Jerome bit his lip and shook his head, then stared at Freakshow and said seethingly that he nearly brought himself to spitting in his captor's face, "No, I'll never become twisted like you! You can play as many of your disgusting little games on as you want, but it won't do any-!"

**POW!! **The frustrated Freakshow had struck Jerome hard against the side of his head with his balled up fist, sending him landing on his right side. Dropping his cane in the process, which some scurrying goons picked up and ran off, the blue-faced menace began yelling in a slurred manner, messing up his multicoloured hair with his flying hands, _"You fool!! You foolish, foolish fool!! You are just like everyone else in Whoville! They all just __**squeeze **__everything negative or that can dampen their spirits out like a wet rag." _To illustrate his point, Freakshow took a hold of each of his hands a squeezed them against each other tightly. _"Squeeeeeeze!" _He ran over to Jerome, grabbed him roughly by the fur on his chest and began shaking him violently like an old rag doll. _"What does it take for me to get it all across to you, Eckhart?! Do I have to 'bite the head off of another freakin' bat'?! Do I?!" _Still holding on tightly to Jerome's fur, Freakshow lifted his foot and kicked him with full force in the face, sending his head slamming back on the ground. Jerome now had a black eye and damaged nose from Freakshow's ruthless kick.

Turning around and spitting on the floor several times in disgust, Freakshow waved his hands wildly in the air, jabbering on like the true mental patient he really was, "You'd have to be a right dillusioned idiot to not understand my point, but then again..."He shook his own head and body violently and all most calmly held out his right arm, which the same scurrying goons from before carefully fitted in the long black cane Freakshow had dropped before. "Extreme times call for extreme measures!"He tapped his chin and mumbled under his breath, "Now what was that I said I felt like doing just a few minutes ago..." The psycho snapped his fingers and declared loudly, "That is right! I felt like _**singing!!" **_He spun around and screamed excitedly in a singing voice, twirling his cane in between his fingers like a windmill, _**"And Iiiiiiii...Iiiiiii wiiiiiill! Huahahahahahahha!!"**_

* * *

Zoey Eckhart was lying so peacefully in her large soft bed in her aqua blue room in the Whoville hospital in the middle of town. She had been sleeping there, completely hooked up to hundreds of wires and partially wrapped up in white bandages for ages now after her shocked parents came home and called an ambulance. After the doctors had examined her damaged body, they confirmed to the relief of the Eckhart parents that she had not been raped, severely sexually violated or something like that. Also, it was deducted by the doctors that the teenage Who was going to make a full recovery; the shock she had received was not as critical as they first presumed. She could not be asked what had happened and where her brother was due to the fact that she had been knocked unconscious from the start of the kidnapping. But right now, Zoey was just in a most definitely needed sleep in which she was to recover.

The rectangular lights in Zoey's hospital room had been turned off, allowing only the shimmering moonlight beam in through the crack of the all most closed green curtains. She slept so calmly as if she was in a state of complete nirvana; the soft hospital bed blanket was pulled up over her chest and a set of fresh hospital nightwear was dressed on her person. Her hands were pulled up to her right; the side of which she was laying on. Zoey's quiet and smooth breathing was the only thing that could be heard in her hospital room, while everything else remained in a tranquil silence. But this feeling of silence was destroyed when from out of the shadows, a large dark from moved forward toward Zoey's hospital bed, making faint metal clanking sounds as it did.

Reaching the teenage Who's bed, the large silhouetted form looked down at Zoey Eckhart through its bright green face shield. It reached out its large gauntlet and carefully stroked the smooth blue hair still exposed from out of the bandages. It spoke with a distinct familiar Russian accent, _"Zoey...Zoey Eckhart."_

Zoey's eyelids opened slowly to see the large silhouetted but blurry form standing in front of her. She let out a low moan, speaking in a tired and groggy voice, "W-who...who are you?" Normally, the average Who would go into panic at seeing such a dark demonic form before them, but Zoey was just too tired and worn out to hardly react.

"I am the Dark Eagle..." The armoured black-bottom eagle leaned inward so Zoey could see him up-close. "But you may call me Vlad." He touched her soft bandaged hand with his unsurprisingly cold gauntleted talons and told her, "Listen to me...we are all aware of what occurred some time ago at your house. Do you remember, Zoey?"

Zoey's face scrunched up in some sort of anguish. It took a few seconds but she remembered well what had happened. She spoke up a bit too loudly to break the all ready damaged silence, "F-Freakshow! I-I-It was him! He...broke into our home and...and he was standing in front of the door and...I can't really remember anything after that." Her lips trembled and she continued painfully, "All I saw before I was knocked out was this big...blinding light. That's all."

"I know. I understand it's not easy for you to look back at it..." the Dark Eagle held up his gauntleted talons and said to her quietly, "But I am in serious need of your help right now. You were one of the only two Whos at your home at the time and now your brother has been abducted!"

"He, he has Jerome?" Zoey asked the large carnivorous bird with a heart-broken voice. It be seen clearly by the Dark Eagle how much Zoey and Jerome meant to each other. Be it because of the obvious reason that the two of them were fraternal twins or not, the siblings sure cared a Hell of a lot of each other's welfare. "No...no, no, no, no. Vlad please, you have to go and find them both. Jojo...I mean Freakshow, he's nuts, Vlad. Who knows what he's doing to him right now?"

The Dark Eagle nodded a few times and Zoey's soft bandaged hand with both of his gauntleted talons. "Exactly, Zoey. Exactly. That is why we need your help since you and Jerome were the only ones there and how you and him are one of the few Whos that knew 'Jojo' before his...transformation."

"What do you want me for?"

After giving a good look throughout his belt, the Dark Eagle took out the very same envelop Dr. Larue had called him about early and held it up in front of Zoey. The 'wicked grin' seal had been cut through so the envelop could be opened. "We have just received an...invitation of sorts." He opened the letter fully and took out the piece of blood red paper from inside. It was a size A3 paper, big enough for Dark Eagle to hold firmly in his grasp. On the side facing Zoey, it read out a message of cut-out letters from newspapers that had been pasted onto it.

"My vision's too blurry..." Zoey narrowed her eyes and tried to get a better look of the message on the blood red coloured paper. "Vlad, what does it say? Can you read it out for me?"

"Sure. It says..." the Dark Eagle cleared his throat and read out what it said exactly on the letter cut-out message. _"'I am the all seeing eye of Whoville. I am the soul collector of information throughout the universe. The knowledge I bring to you knows no bounds. If you are bent on finding and rescuing your Who in distress, then answer this: __**what am I?'"**_

"Well, it's a riddle..." Zoey mumbled, resting her heavy eyes but making sure to stay awake and talk to the armoured black-bottomed eagle. "...duh. God, who does he think he is? The Puzzler?" She was referring to the famous clue-leaving villain appearing in the Batwho comic series.

"We know it's a riddle, Zoey, but that's why we need your help." Dark Eagle fitted the blood red coloured letter into the teenage Who's weak and ever so gentle hands. "You and Jerome both play bigger roles in this than either of you know. You two are amongst the very few that knew 'Jojo' well enough to figure him out."

Zoey cocked her head and pulled up her hospital bed blankets close and tight. "But what about the Mayor and his Mrs. McDodd. Surely they would-"

But Dark Eagle shook his head slowly as he stated, "No. That will not do any good. Before the clover incident, barely a single Who knew a lick of information about 'Jojo' other then you and your brother." He tapped his talons on top of the blood red letter in her hands. "So please, Zoey. If we are ever going to have any hope in finding Jerome, we need _you _to help us solve this riddle."

Now shuffling up against the large soft pillow of her hospital bed, Zoey got herself comfortable enough and narrowed her eyes down at the paper cut-out letters matched up to form the riddle before her. "Okay let's see." She read out most of the words quietly in mumbles, _"'All seeing eye of Whoville'"_ She clicked her tongue and looked upwards in thought before looking down at the riddle again, _"'Soul collector of information throughout the universe and...'" _She leaned her head hard against the pillow and dropping the letter back down on her blankets. _"'No bounds of bringing knowledge.'"_

"Uh-huh? And?" the Dark Eagle gestured the teenage Who to continue with her conclusion.

"I think..." Zoey closed her eyes and thought very hard about this. "Well, I'm not sure it's some place full of computers, because then what would it mean by 'all seeing eye of Whoville'? So then it would have to be something else." Dark Eagle nodded and remained silent for Zoey to continue. "Perhaps a place that has a load of video cameras installed into it? No, but then what would that have to do with 'soul collector of information throughout the universe' and even with 'Jojo'?!" She lifted her weak hand and scratched her forehead. "God, this isn't exactly all that easy."

"All seeing eye. Soul collector of information. No bounds of bringing Knowledge." Dark Eagle tapped his hard metal helmet slightly. "And they are all somehow in someway connected to 'Jojo'. What brought them all together? "For something to be an all seeing eye the collects information, then it has to look over a vast amount of land or space, like a, a-" He snapped his talons a few times as he racked his brain, trying to figure it out.

Zoey had been listening to Vlad's each word carefully, when she began guessing the most valid candidates. "Camera? No, uh, microscope? No, wait...telescope? _Giant telescope?"_

Dark Eagle scratched his beak mandible with his sharp talons and repeated the words over and over, "Giant telescope. Giant telescope. Yes, that makes sense, all right." He looked back down at her. "Now all we have to consider is how a giant telescope can possibly be a soul collector of no bounds of information throughout the universe."

"Maybe it doesn't necessarily have to be information collected from Whoville, but of something on a larger scale?" Zoey suggested, folding her arms. They were getting closer; they could both just taste the answer right before them. "Like, you know something seriously huge. Like...the sky or, or space and-"

That one word made the two of them stop and look at each other with wide eyes. 'Space'. Zoey just said the one key word that could help them solve Freakshow's riddle. Dark Eagle put the pieces together and spoke in a low voice, "A giant telescope looking up into space looking for information of no bounds." A grin formed on the armoured black-bottom eagle's beak. "Now what giant can do that?"

_"An observatory!!" _The two of them said at once, looking at each other excitedly.

"And an observatory and 'Jojo' go together like peanut butter and jelly in a sandwich." Zoey nodded, smiling widely. This was it. They had figured out the riddle. The answer was 'observatory'! The Dark Eagle was so filled with joy and zest that he grabbed Zoey and kissed her on the head, if that was possible with him having a beak that is.

The armoured black-bottom eagle then stopped and looked at the all ready surprised teenage Who and asked her incredulously, "Peanut butter and jelly?! In a sandwich?! Ha, ha, ha, ha!" He began laughing loud and hard. "What a ridiculous idea! I mean, yeah and observatory and 'Jojo' fit well together; but like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?! What kind of chucklehead came up with that idea! Ha, ha, ha, ha!"

"Yeah, but-"

Dark Eagle however spun around on his feet, still laughing to himself as he did. "Peanut butter and jelly sandwich?! Ha, ha!" When he was close into the darkness from which he came, he was reached up for the same communication button on the side of his helmet.

However, before Dark Eagle could make contact with either Dr. Larue or even the Mayor, Zoey spoke up and caught his attention. "Vlad, wait!" He heard her and looked back to see Zoey sitting up right with some struggle in her hospital bed. "Wait."

"What is it?"

"When you find Freakshow..." Her expression turned dark and angry, all most vengeful, "Will you_ kill him?"_

The Dark Eagle paused and then sighed heavily, lowering his head down in front of his armoured chest and out of Zoey's sight. "Zoey, you can't ask me to do that." He tried his best to sound firm, yet he could not hide his shame. "I may be an eagle, but I just can't slaughter someone as easy as people think."

"But think what he could be doing to my brother right now." The teenage Who pleaded her case to the large armoured carnivorous bird. "Just think about. He could be torturing Jerome right now as we speak and you think that is fine and dandy?!"

"Of course not! It's just that..." The Dark Eagle was running out of excuses to give Zoey, until he rubbed the back of his neck with his gauntleted talons and said flatly, turning his head back to her, "We have to show Freakshow _our _way of law and order works, not _his _way?" Dark Eagle turned a full 180 degrees around to face he and stated, "If I just go off and kill him, then who wins in truth, Zoey? Me or him? He has his own point to proof that everyone could be twisted and brought down to his level." He clenched his talons up right, making them _scree_ as the metals scraped against each other. "Well, I am not prepared to let him win." His facial expression softened and placed his talons back onto the floor. I'm just sorry, Zoey. Yes, I understand that you have every right to feel a strong hatred towards Freakshow for what he is doing. That is normal for both Whos and Noolians, but you cannot let it steer you. Because again, this will mean the blue-faced menace has won yet again."

Zoey had been so taken back by the armoured black-bottom eagle's words. She felt such a seething hatred towards the psychotic Who that she was forgetting that that was exactly what he was aiming for. "Okay, you know what? You're right. We have to do all this as the cops would say, 'by the book', I guess." The teenage who twiddled her fingers together and asked Dark Eagle, "But still...do you think you could at least, you know, beat the ever-loving crap out of him?"

The Dark Eagle grinned a bit, "That I think I can do." When he got a smile from Zoey in return, the black-bottom eagle replied as he walked away into the shadow from whence he came. "Please do take care, Miss Eckhart." With that the mysterious black-bottom eagle finished into the dark shadow in which Zoey saw him enter her hospital room...

The teenage Who wrapped up in bandages and wires had watched Whoville's newest hero disappear into the shadows. Once she was for certain that he had by whatever means had left the building, Zoey laid down flat on her hospital bed. It did not take long before she found herself getting tired once again. Her eyelids gently closed down over her beautiful blue eyes and Zoey began quietly snoring as she drifted off to sleep. She muttered one last sentence just when she fell once again into a peaceful slumber, _"Go get 'em, ya big, crazy, crazy bastard..."_

Meanwhile, back on the roof of the hospital, the Dark Eagle emerged from the ventilation shaft and looked out across the city buildings. There was no more smoke from fires caused by the rampaging criminals and the sound of gunfire and screams had all most died away to silence. He pressed the communication button on the side of his helmet and spoke to Dr. Larue/Purply on the other end, "Dark Eagle to Purply, Dark Eagle to Purply. Come in Purply."

An irritated groan came back in response over the communicator and Dr. Larue responded, _"Yes, Dark Eagle. This is Purply. What is it?"_

"We have found the answer to the riddle." The Dark Eagle informed his Who friend. He then looked out into the distance and saw it; the observatory was far off in the distance. "The answer...is observatory. Freakshow is at the old observatory and he is most likely keeping Jerome there right now as we speak!"

Dr. Larue on the other end let out a loud gasp in shock, followed by the sound of her all most following out of the chair she was sitting in. _"Oh, my goodness! Are you absolutely sure, Vlad! I mean, have you gone over it and-"_

But the Dark Eagle cut her off quickly and told her sharply, "Mary, please, you must trust me on this one! I have absolutely no doubt that he's there and frankly, there doesn't seem to be any other place he would hide then his former sanctuary from his past life as Jojo!" He looked out to the old observatory once again through his green face shield with a look of pure loathing. What had been one of the most important tools in saving Whoville from being destroyed by beezlenut oil was now most definitely be used as a house of torture. "...we don't exactly have many alternative candidates, do we?"

Mary Lou Larue, at first said nothing until her voice returned, _"What do you want me to do?"_

"You must inform Commissioner Martyn, Lieutenant Knox, the Mayor, everyone immediately!!" The Dark Eagle ordered 'Purply' sternly, while still keeping his eye on the observatory he was itching to fly off to in battle. "We have to get all available police forces, S.W.A.T teams, the army, the air force, the god damn navy, everything we got over there right now!" He reached out his gauntleted talons in the direction of the observatory. "I will head there right now first and confront Freakshow myself. You guys come in anytime you wish, got it?"

_"Yes sir!" _Dr. Larue said as if she were an army soldier receiving an order from her superior officer.

"Good, now move out, sailor!" Dark Eagle commanded to her like a navy admiral and took his talon off of the communicator button on the side of his helmet. Cracking his talons hard, the Dark Eagle pressed the button on his gauntlet that activated the rocket on the back of his armour. With a jolt, he was sent shooting up into the air from the roof, leaving a trail of sparks and smoke behind him. Soon he began flapping his wings and got his flight patterns back on course. "Woah, woah, woah!"

The armoured black-bottom eagle narrowed himself into a smooth curve and swooped down in and out through the openings of dozens of Whoville buildings. He nearly knocked into a lamppost or billboard or two but he still pursued in his flight. He had to reach the observatory, while there was still time to save Jerome from a fate worse than death...

* * *

There are sometimes in life when a person goes through so much, especially if it is in one sitting that they just give up and breakdown. The misery and terror grows so great and overwhelming that it could just pierce straight through the person's very soul itself. That was exactly what poor Jerome Eckhart was going through at the very moment. After tonight's events, the teenage Who could say with a great deal of honesty that he had seen near enough all of Freakshow's sick little tricks. But could he? With a Who like Freakshow, it was all most impossible to know what he was going to pull of next and Jerome all ready knew the blue-faced menace before the latter's 'make over'.

So what exactly could Jerome do at the moment besides take the torture like a man and wait and pray for some kind of miracle. Jerome himself was not all that religious; it was only intense times like these that he would ever prey to God for some help or think over his beliefs. Right now for him God was as far away as possible and the Devil was standing right by him in the same room. This Devil in particular was a blue-face Who with a face as worse as Hell.

The hundreds of flashing lights had continued to blind Jerome, forcing him to burry his face within his hands and knees. The loud and unpractised music that has been played to the teenage Who's discontent had for some reason stopped, while ambiguous chattering had taken its place. But all that stopped when an evil familiar voice sang in a merry tune...

_**"Five, six, seven, eight!"**_

Freakshow spun Jerome Eckhart around by the shoulders and got in his face. Cackling maniacally, he pointed to an orange masked Who sitting down in front of a piano not far across the room in the observatory. _**"**__**Maestro...?" **_The masked 'maestro' goon played the same kind of loud piano music from old seedy bars as Freakshow took out his long black cane, tipped his bowler hat over and began singing.

_**If you think life is dandy, then boy you are wrong!**_

_**With that attitude, you're a mere dillusioned dope!**_

_**You are in a Hell of a situation here, pal!**_

_**Can't you see now that there is no hope?!**_

The masked goons jumped out of nowhere and began tossing eggs, fruit, vegetables and even old boots at Jerome like the sick monsters they were in their minds. The teenage Who put his arms up so the flying objects did not hit him in the face, yet they managed to hit him hard in the sides. "Hey, knock it off! Still, Freakshow whacked Jerome around the head again and again with his cane, and then began kicking him viciously around like tumbleweed.

_**When you're pushed over toward the edge,**_

_**There is only one thing that you can do!**_

_**You just have to take the deep, deep plunge,**_

_**Down there, it'll just be me and you!**_

"Tie him down in chains!" Freakshow ordered his men, whom took out chains upon chains of metal links and tossed them around Jerome. Once they had secured the links around the teenage Who, the derranged masked Whos dragged Eckhart around the smooth metal floor like a bag full of potatoes.

"Heh, heh, heh, heh! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, HA!!"

* * *

Outside the entrance of the observatory, Dr. Marvin Caine and his group of unmasked thugs were standing by the closed doors. Claude was standing there as well, shotgun in hand and put his ear to the doors. After hearing the sounds of horror occurring in the building, he looked back at Caine and whispered to them with a grim look, "Christ, I'm glad I'm not in there right now..."

"Let us just hope that the Boss' sadistic needs are met when he is finished with the little whelp." Caine remarked, crossing his arms and fiddling with the revolver in his hand. He snickered and made a wise-crack, "For all we know, he could be drinking Eckhart's blood from his neck like some vampire."

Claude guffawed as well, making his own little gag, "Or he could be eating his brains like that monster from that horror movie last year." He began waving around his hands as he reminisced, "You know, that one with the giant green beast with the one eye and-"

"Yeah, except it sucked!"

"What?!" Claude spun around to glare at the suddenly surprised Dr. Caine. "What did you just say?!"

"I didn't say anything!" Caine snapped, putting his hands up defensively.

"No-" **Pow! **Caine and Claude looked behind them to see one of the unmasked goons that was standing on guard with a machine gun at his hands falling to the ground unconscious. They then raised their heads to see an armoured black-bottom eagle holding onto a long metal crowbar in one of his clenched gauntleted talons. "That was me. I saw that movie on one of those DVD things...it was awful."

The Dark Eagle flicked the machine gun lying on the cold concrete floor up into the air with his right talons and caught them with the same one. He pointed the machine gun at the two goons of Freakshow and growled threateningly at them both, _"I will count to three...one...two..."_

* * *

_**When you look at it my way, a padded cell is not so bad,**_

_**Please take my word for it; it'll chase those rain clouds away!**_

_**Just think of nuzzling against the rubber walls of the rubber room,**_

_**And those relaxing injections two or better yet three times a day!**_

Freakshow whistled, getting the masked thugs' attention and pointed to a medium sized steel cage being wheeled out into the spotlight. "All right, boys. Cage him! Cage the little bastard like the little sideshow he now is!" Some of the goons were reluctant, while some of the eager psychos dragged and kicked the silent Jerome over to the cage. Freakshow took out a remote and pointed and clicked it at the steel cage, making the entrance slide open.

_**Cage him up now! That's order!**_

_**We will take whatever's left of his dignity and sanity away!**_

_**We'll leave him tormented, whacky and mindless...**_

"But sir-" The doubtful and queer blue masked thug pointed out, foolishly pointing out how much too far they were going. _**Pang! **_He was sent to the floor dead by the will of Freakshow's desert eagle.

_**DO AS I SAY!!**_

Freakshow know picked out something hidden behind his blazer, unknownst to the masked goons. It was a miniature machine; fitting perfectly in the homicidal Who's hands and ready to fire. He hid it behind his back and walked casually into the middle ring of the anxiously waiting masked thugs. The spotlight now shone down on the psycho as he proceeded with the climax to his little number.

_**So when all is death, famine, world war and life is purely vile...**_

The blue-faced menace took the machine gun out from behind his back and spun around at his goons. He cocked his weapon dangerously, but the goons were laughing so loud and hard, none of them took any notice. They were all like he was; loopy to the core!

_**Then there is really only one thing you can do...**_

_**And that is to...**_

Jerome cringed his teeth and looked away, not wanting to bare looking what was about to surely happen. Freakshow put on one last simple grin before his finger pulled down on the trigger.

_**SMIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILE!!**_

Freakshow's musical number ended in a massive wave of billions of bullets flying throughout the air in the direction of his own masked goons. But what did they do? Some screamed, some groaned, such said nothing while they dropped dead with blood splattering in all directions. Some on the other hand just continued to laugh pathetically and died with it as their dying breath. Freakshow said nothing, but still maintained his grin despite the countless bodies dropping motionless before him.

When the sound of gunfire ended and the flashing lights and instruments music died down, replaced only by silence, Freakshow dropped his machine gun and with what sounded like an exhausted groan, stomped on the end of the cane next to his feet. It spun up in the air and her caught it firm in his hand. He stopped for a moment to take in a couple of long deep breaths until he decided to spin around on his cane to look at his tormented hostage. Freakshow licked his lips and said with what sounded like his normal voice in a toothy smile, "I still got it."

_**CRASH!!**_

Freakshow and Jerome looked to a yellow square of pale light created by the absence of the doors that had been knocked down. There, standing large and in charge in the middle of the doorway...

The Dark Eagle cracked his neck left and right. _"Knock, knock."_

* * *

**(A/N) And I will leave it right there! Now this was one intense chapter to write, let me tell you. Well like I said, these final chapters are going to be considerably shorter than that of the previous ones. I should let you all know now that the next chapter is the last one before the epilogue of this story, featuring the confrontation between Freakshow and the Dark Eagle. It's a shame that one of my best stories is coming to its conclusion, but no need to worry, loyal readers. I have my other **_**Horton Hears A Who**_** story, **_**Of Dogs and Whos **_**now in the works. I shall be working on the next chapter of that story as like I said in its prologue, I shall be doing these updates in turn. Until then, please Read and Review!**


	16. Chapter Fifteen: The last confrontation

**(A/N) All right, everyone, I am back with chapter fifteen of my story, which is the last chapter to the epilogue. This is honestly the one chapter I have been looking forward to the most during the course of writing this story. Here, the Dark Eagle and Freakshow confront against each other. There will be some fighting, but also some deeply psychological talking as well. After all, I'm not one of those people who just reads and action movie or book just for the moment when two characters beat the Hell each other. Read on and see for yourself.**

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen**

**The last confrontation**

The Dark Eagle marched slowly into the room, wings outspread and talons extended dangerously. Freakshow stood in place next to the mystified Jerome Eckhart's cage. This was it. The Dark Eagle had searched throughout the entire city of Whoville for this villain and now, at least he had him standing in front of him. It was time to take him down once and for all.

"That was a good number, Freak." Vlad said the last word venomously, spitting hard onto the ground in disgust. "But it's not going to save you from the wrath of me and the authorities." Freakshow remained silent, but still maintained a cocky and arrogant grin, leaning on his long black cane. "The police, S.W.A.T teams, everything towing a gun or force is on its way to this observatory right now. You have now lost, McDodd." He then raised his right set of talons and unleashed them threateningly. "Release Eckhart, now. Otherwise, feel free to challenge me."

Freakshow lowered his shaking head and gave out a low but audible chuckle, still holding his cane tightly in his fist. "You, heh, heh, you think you have won. You think you have me like a mouse held tight in your talons. But you forgot a very important fact..." His hand slinked up into his sleeve, obviously searching for something within it. "You are not..." His blue gloved hand reappeared from the sleeve, holding the golden desert eagle that shone in the darkness. Freakshow finished, screaming, **"A hero!"**

_**Bang! Bang! Bang!**_

Golden bullets shot out of the gun towards the eagle, piercing the sound barrier. The face field installed computer detected the oncoming bullets and dodged them at the very nick of time. _**Bang! Bang! **_Yet still the golden bullets continued to fly through the air like sharp glistening knives, only to be ducked or dodged by the large carnivorous bird.

Freakshow finally got a good visual on his enemy and was about to pull the trigger. He was going to send a bullet shattering the Dark Eagle's face shield and leave a hole in between his eyes when _**ka-lank! **_The blue-faced menace's trusty golden desert eagle was knocked out of his hand and shattered to pieces by a large black and blue boomerang object that got stuck in a crack in the floor. He clung to his sore hand and glared up at the Dark Eagle perching up on top of a large dead lamp.

Throwing the remaining handle he was holding to the ground, Freakshow still glared intensely up at his opponent and opened up his arms, speaking in a goading manner, "All right...come on, then you bastard! Come down from your nest and beat the living shit out of me! Come on!"

Roaring with rage, the Dark Eagle swooped down from the dead light and collided directly with the psychotic Who, who secretly took something out from his sleeve at the last second. The armoured black-bottom eagle pinned Freakshow down on the floor and was about to give a mighty slash to his face when _**bzzzzzt! **_Dark Eagle let out a squawk as he threw himself off of Freakshow and toppled over in pain as an electrical surge spread throughout his body.

Freakshow pulled himself up to his feet throw away the miniature taser as he laughed manically. He looked quickly from the black-bottom eagle to Jerome sitting in the cage and decided now was the best time to flee. The blue-faced menace spun around on his heels and bolted down to a large yellow double door to his left. "So long, suckers!" Were his last words when he pushed the yellow doors open and disappeared behind them. _"Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"_

After the electrical surge had finished passing through his body, Vlad Vladikoff slowly stood up just in time to see the yellow double door close completely. He would have gone after the homicidal Who and was even in the middle of doing so when he remembered the tormented teenage Who still trapped within the cage. The Dark Eagle grabbed hold of the bars of the cage door and summoned all the strength his armour would allow him to pull it clean off its hinges! "Jerome! Jerome Eckhart! Are you still okay?!"

The second the door was broken off, Jerome thrusted himself forward and embraced the Dark Eagle. He let out a groan of pain but also relief, "Oh God. Uggggggggh! Oh God. oh God, oh God...!"

"You're going to be all right, Jerome." The Dark Eagle took something off from his utility belt; a blue capsule labelled H20. "This should help you." He cracked it in half and poured the sparkling blue water onto Jerome's face. "You like you've been through Hell and back, Jerome."

"Oh, I have, this morning. _I have." _Jerome rubbed the water against his own face hard, especially around the eyes. "He, he _drugged _me...beat me half to death and..." He grabbed the sides of his head and finished with such strain, "Oh, the noise! The lights! He was trying to drive me into insanity!"

Dark Eagle put his talons on the teenage Who's shoulder and told him calmly, "Listen, Jerome; the police are not far behind. They will be here within minutes. I'll, I'll stay here with you until they arrive and-"

But Jerome cut the black-bottom eagle off instantly, "No! No, no, no! No, I'm okay! I'm okay. You have got to go after and capture _him!" _He said 'him', obviously referring to Freakshow with so venomously that his very name sounded like poison to the tormented teenage Who. "You've got to bring him in to the cops!"

"But you need-"

Jerome would not have a word of it and put his weak hand up, "I told you, I'll be fine! You have to run after Freakshow and capture him before he escapes! If you don't, he'll just continue to make things in Whoville worse than they have all ready become!" He then took the Dark Eagle by the shoulders and panted, "And you have to bring him in _alive!"_

The Dark Eagle was apprehensive about this but grudgingly nodded and stood back up. "Okay. I'll do my best to." He whirled around and darted down through the massive room filled with the dead bodies of Freakshow's nameless masked goons to the yellow double door in which Freakshow had fled.

"Bring him in_ alive, _you hear me?!" Jerome exclaimed after the armoured black-bottom eagle, while sitting down carefully against the metal bars of his now open cage. "He has his point to prove; we have _ours! _We have to prove to him our ways work!"

_Slam! _The Dark Eagle crashed through the double doors and vanished into the darkness. Jerome yelled out once more to the eagle just before he was out of his earshot, _"We have to prove to Freakshow that we are in no way like him!"_

* * *

The Dark Eagle knew that Jerome was right in every way. If he brought in Freakshow as a dead corpse there will be various pros and cons. Pros: the blue-faced menace would be silenced for good and he could therefore no longer make Whoville at his hands. Cons: Freakshow would have still won the battle as his believe that good people would be proven true, even in his death. The armoured black-bottom eagle had to make up his mind now whether to capture of kill. Either to act on the animal instinct he had suppressed ever since he was young or do what is right in moral terms. It was now time to decide on what he thought was right and wrong.

Passed the yellow double door, the black-bottom eagle observed his surroundings to see a set of narrow hallways before him. But that was not what perplexed him; what baffled the Dark Eagle was that the walls were made completely of hundred television screens! It looked like something out of one of those cheesy low-budget horror films. He looked around yelled out with caution, "McDodd! You there?!"

_"Heheheheheheheheheheheheheheheheh!" _Freakshow's laughter chorused in a stereo voice throughout the long and narrow hallways before the Dark Eagle. There was a flash and the eagle looked up to see one by one, the television screens switching on to show distorted and variously coloured images of Freakshow's face. _"So then...I presume you received and deciphered that little riddle I sent you. And you know what, Vladikoff? I'm actually glad you're here. I can't even begin to express how eagerly I anticipated your arrival."_

The Dark Eagle narrowed his eyes and charged down the nearest hallway in search of the source of the stereo voice. _'Where are you, you little bastard?' _

As the large carnivorous bird moved turned left and right passed the hall ways, the psychotic Who's voice continued sniggering, _"You see, like I stated before in that interrogation room, it doesn't mean anything if you capture me and lock me away in that asylum. It won't even mean a rat's ass if you snap my neck. And you know why?"_

The armoured black-bottom ran down one hallway, only to stop in his tracks when he witnessed a roar of orange shoot up from the floors in front of him. He had only stopped just time for the flames to come inches from his beak. Sweat pouring down his scarred and scuffed beak and his heart pounding hard, Dark Eagle spun around and made his way down into another hallway. _"Damn booby-traps. Why is there all ways got to be booby-traps?"_

_"I've proved my point, Vlad. I have displayed that there is only one thing causing a wedge between me and every other Who out there." _The distorted image of Freakshow put his hands behind his head and leaned back comfortably and cockily in his chair. _"That one thing is a horrible event. One horrible, hear-wrenching event in one's life that pushes him so far that he is sent plummeting down the cliff to abyss of insanity." _He leaned back forward in his chair and hissed with vehement anger, holding up his index finger, _"Are you hearing me, Vladikoff?! That is the one difference between me and the rest of my kind. One horrible event. One foul, gruesome, miserable day!!"_

Breathing in and out quickly, Dark Eagle dodged and ducked the electrical sparkling arrows flying out from the small gaps between the many television screens. Unfortunately, one of those arrows skimmed him against his shoulder near his neck, making the eagle cringe in pain. "Gah!" Shaking it off, Dark Eagle continued on. He started to hear the source of Freakshow's stereo voice growing louder...

Freakshow on the screen calmed himself down, smoothed out his multicoloured hair and straightened the bowler hat on top of his head.. _"But it's not like I'm the __**only **__one in this universe that's in my position. You...you had yourself quite a few bad events in your life, correct? Oh, of course I'm right. You went through a bad event, just like me and it turned you just a nutter as I am. But there is a problem..." _Pointed his finger right in the direction of camera as if pointing to Vlad himself. _"You just can't swallow you're pride and admit it!" _He waved his hands around in midair and ranted on, _"You kept on trying to fool yourself into thinking that there is even the slightest meaning in life. That there is a reason why the homeless starve and the wicked grow greedy and fat! That there is a reason why people like you and me have to suffer!" _He regurgitated as much saliva and phlegm as he could and spat right into the camera. He wiped some saliva away from his lip and growled with disgust, _"My God...you make me sick to my very stomach! You and the rest of my kind that think life is a bowl full of cherries!"_

Turning yet another corner in the hallways, ever so narrowly avoiding a barricade of red hot beams that were flying in his former direction. He looked at one of television screens showing Freakshow, smashed it with his gauntleted talons and stormed down the hallway, hearing Freakshow's stereo voice growing louder and clearer than before...

_"I mean, what is it with you, Vladikoff?! What drove you into eventually landing the position you are in now?!" _Freakshow tipped his bowler hat upwards and rubbed his forehead as he went into another rant,_ "You're somewhat of a special case. It wasn't JUST daddy, now was it? Of course not. I mean, okay so you had a little abusive childhood; yawn! I actually though I had you figured out back in the interrogation room, but now that I see you here in some goofy get-up and making it your destiny to stop me, it makes me wonder what else went astray in your life? Did you have some girlfriend that was mauled to death by some wild cheetah or tiger, maybe? Were you once lost within a cave were you temporarily lost your mind?! Something like that, surely! Something along those lines..." _Freakshow closed his eyelids and tiredly rubbed them with finger and thumb. He opened them again and said with a heavy sigh, _"Because...it was something along those lines that had befallen me. It's strange...the more times goes on, the fuzzier my former life becomes in my mind. I know I fell into a chemical vat but now...it takes a few minutes to even remember what my old name was. It's like sometimes I look back on my origin in angle and other times several. Jesus Christ, I'm like the Rubix Cube with the missing side! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"_

Picking up the pace, the Dark Eagle saw a large space in the floor open up not far in front of him. He began to speed up and when he got near enough to the edge, pushed his talons up from the floor and thrusted himself up into the air. For a few moments, he glided through the air of the pit, which when the eagle looked down was filled with a bubbling hot green chemical. The Dark Eagle landed back down on the floor passed the pit of doom and persuade his enemy without looking back. When the armoured black-bottom eagle looked up, he saw a faint flickering white light not far off in the distance. He was now close.

_"But the point I'm trying to make is I...went mad!" _On the word 'mad', Freakshow shook his head left and right with his tongue handing out. He regained his composure and put his long bony fingers together. _"I went as mad as a hatter when I at last learnt what a bubbling crock of pain and misery our world really is! Freakin' mad! And I am more than willing to admit it! But why can't...you?" _Freakshow's eyes narrowed and picked up his long black cane in his hand. He took it by both hands and twirled it around a couple of times before speaking again with a tone of frustration in his voice, _"I mean, you're not an idiot, Vlad! Secretive, a loner and a bit crazy but not an idiot! You must at least remotely see where I am coming from here! Do you have any idea how many times people kill each other like savages over money, oil or religion?! Whoville itself has only ever been in one war and you know what caused it, Vladdy?!" _He did the impression of holding a gun to the side of his own head. _"Dear old grandpa Ferdinand got shot by some terrorist and viola! All Hell broke loose! That one shot had indirectly caused the eventual deaths of millions! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"_

The Dark Eagle could see it now. He had reached the end of the labyrinth of hallways and looked up ahead to see a flickering white light. It was coming out from a large rectangular window in which the armoured black-bottom eagle saw the silhouette of a small Who. He had found his man. With a scowl on his face, Dark Eagle pressed a button on his gauntlet and his rocket started up.

* * *

Inside the dark room through the window, the real Freakshow stood hunched over a control panel, microphone in hand and bowler hat now tipped over his head. The psycho had stopped laughing now and spoke with a calm yet solemn voice, "So why can't you just look at it just once from _my _view?" He bawled up his free hand into a fist and finished his speech shakily and painfully, "...why aren't you standing here at my side, _laughing _along with me?"

_**CRASH!!! **_Freakshow looked up and gasped when he saw the Dark Eagle crashing through the windows!

The armoured black-bottom eagle landed right in front of the blue-faced menace and hissed darkly, "Because unlike you..." He grabbed Freakshow by the blazer and pulled him in so close that his nose nearly touched the eagle's beak. "...I never give up so easily!" Dark Eagle lifted Freakshow up and flung him across the air, making him land on top of the control panel and the bowler hat fly off his head. Freakshow looked over his shoulder and glared at his enemy who approached threateningly. "Oh and concerning Jerome Eckhart, I had myself a brief conversation with him before I came after you. And he's going to be _fine! _Despite all those sick, disgusting little tricks of yours, Eckhart's still as healthy in the head as he ever was." He folded his wings and glowered over the homicidal Who, who secretly took out his golden serrated knife out from his sleeve. The eagle saw this and raised his claw. "So here's a new theory: maybe some Whos out there don't all ways crack like eggs..."

_Thwack! _"Gah!"Freakshow yelled out and clutched his hand in pain as the Dark Eagle knocked the serrated knife out of the Who's grasp and across the room.

"Perhaps there is no reason just to descend into darkness with everything else sick and vile when tragedy strikes!" Dark Eagle grabbed Freakshow by the head and pulled him up so they saw eye to eye. "Say better yet, maybethe real problem was just _you _and how you gave up on the world so easily when it was still willing to help you!"

"No...no, you're..._**wrong!!" **_Freakshow screamed and slashed at the eagle's face shield with his sharp yellow nails, leaving scratch marks and electric sparks fly.

"Agh!" The Dark Eagle closed his eyes and grabbed hold of his sparkling face shield, throwing Freakshow back in the process. Once he saw the blue-faced menace again, he all most instinctively took out a few discs from his utility belt and flung them at Freakshow.

The psychotic dodged the first two discs with no problem and laughed mockingly at his rival. "Ha! Ya missed me!" This proved a fatal error on hid behalf as the third disc struck the maniac had against his face, sending him off his feet. "Agh! Oh God, that hurt!" He grabbed his mouth which leaked with some blood.

The Dark Eagle run up to Freakshow, claws unleashed and ready to attack when the homicidal Who took out a remote and pressed down on the button with his thumb. Before the armoured black-bottom eagle could get close enough, he was struck hard against the back of the head by an oncoming flying object, making him fall to the ground. It was Freakshow's long black cane which spun around in the air until the psycho Who grabbed it with his hand.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha!" Dark Eagle looked up and saw Freakshow grabbing a hold of the black cane's handle. The homicidal Who gave the handle a yank and to the eagle's shock, pulled out a long serrated sword. Freakshow's cane was, like all most everything else under his possession, a weapon! Screaming like a banshee, Freakshow charged the Dark Eagle, swinging the sword wildly. He aimed for the upper abdomen or places on the black-bottom where he was not protected by armour. Unfortunately for him, the eagle was fairly quick and agile, enabling him to dodge and duck each of the attacks. "Stand...still...you fucking...**bastard!!"**

At one horizontal swing of the sword, the Dark Eagle dropped to the floor in order to dodge to attack. However, the sword managed to strike against the rocket attached to the eagle's back, making it hiss and let off a loud ringing noise. "Oh, dear, that can't possibly be good." Both Freakshow and Dark Eagle stated in the same state of worry.

The rocket that was attached to the Dark Eagle's back launched off into the air, leaving a trail of fire and smoke behind it. "Hit the deck!" Screaming, Freakshow and the eagle both but their hands behind their end and laid themselves flat on the floor while the rocket flew around above them.

_**KA-BLAM!! **_The rocket struck against the side wall of the room, sending fire and debris flying and blinding the blue-faced menace and eagle's vision. The explosion was so powerful that it created a massive wound in the side of the observatory with smoke and debris falling down the side. In fact, it gave off a tremor powerful enough to shake the observatory on its foundations and everything in it. It definitely made just as better an explosive than a flying machine!

Moments later after most of the smoke fog had cleared the fiery patches had extinguished, Freakshow stumbled out through the massive wound in the observatory wall as if in a daze. His blazer and the rest of his clothing had been singed and tattered, while his face had several cut marks and a black eye. The psycho's knees buckled and he just out through the gaping whole and down the side of the observatory. He should of thanked his lucky stars that there was a metal catwalk below him. Freakshow landed hard on the near edge of the catwalk with his arms and head hanging over the rails. _'I hate that bastard.' _The deformed Who felt water pouring through his hair and down his clothes. It was started to rain. Heavily.

Soon, the Dark Eagle's demonic form emerged from the wound in the observatory wall and glided down gracefully onto the catwalk. He landed right behind the derranged psychotic Who and stood up straight, towering over him. "It's over, McDodd." He had spoken to soon.

Freakshow spun around to face the Dark Eagle, a look of pure insanity on his face and a snub-nosed revolver in his hand. "Hope you wrote your will!" Dark Eagle did get the chance to respond when Freakshow pulled down on the trigger of the gun which was aimed at the bird's face. _**Bang!**_

Dark Eagle's eyes shut and his face cringed at the sound of the gunshot and yet, he felt no pain. No surge of seething hot agony. Nothing. He opened his eyes and saw, both to his and Freakshow's surprise that a bullet had not fired out of the gun, but instead a long metal poll on which a small flag unfolded. It was a red piece of fabric that read in black, _'BANG!'_

Freakshow looked down at the novelty gun he was actually holding in his hand, put his other hand over his face and began laughing uproariously. "Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Heh, heh, hoo, hoo, ha! I can't believe it! Ha, ha!" He looked up at Freakshow and pointed his free hand at the novelty gun he was holding in the other. "I'm so sorry, I, I found these things Whobay. Heh, heh, heh. I just couldn't pass them up! Ha, ha!" Laughing some more, the psycho tossed the gun over his shoulder, over the rails of the catwalk and down the long drop below.

After finally calming himself down and resting his back against the rails, Freakshow looked glumly at Dark Eagle passed the strands of multicoloured hair in front of his eyes. "Well, Vladikoff? What are you waiting for? A bus?! I have torn Whoville down into a post-apocalyptic cavern of chaos. I've slaughtered and maimed hundreds of both innocent and guilty Whos. I mentally tortured my former best friend. Why don't you beat the living tar out of me and be hailed by Whoville as the hero you have oh so wanted to be?"

"You want to know why?" The Dark Eagle's expression looked cold and soulless at first, until he spoke with a serious tone, "Because I don't play by the same rules that you do. And more importantly, because I do not want to." He kneeled down closer to Freakshow's level and continued, "Do you hear me? I don't want to hurt or kill you, because I don't want either of us to end up slaughtering each other. It's not the honourable thing to do. But..." He stood back up and looked in the other direction away from the homicidal Who. "If we continue on like this, give it two to three and we'll both gradually run out of other options. We're smart enough to figure that out, Jojo." All the while the eagle said this, Freakshow pulled himself up from his sitting position and stood over the rails, looking out into the distance.

The Dark Eagle rubbed his aching beak and said to his adversary with a deep breath, "So maybe...maybe our future all depends on what happens right here, right now. This could be our only chance to put an end to all this before it _really _begins." He looked back over to Freakshow, but the latter did not look back. "If you don't listen to me and take this opportunity, then both of us we'll be trapped in a never ending war like the Batwho and the Jester. Innocent lives, be they innocent or guilty will be taken as a result of it. And the only way it will end is when at least one of us is at least dead. Killed by the other!"

Freakshow turned his head 90 degrees, looking at Dark Eagle out of the corner of his eyes. He then turned his head's direction back to looking mysteriously into the distance. The faint sound of police sirens could be heard far off, gradually growing louder...

"But It doesn't _have _to go down like that." The Dark Eagle now sounded somewhat more sympathetic with the deformed teenage Who. "I mean, I understand that there was very little that could prevent your life spiralling out of control like it has, but that doesn't mean it can't be fixed. There are still people, me included, that care about you and want to help rehabilitate you. We don't want to just abandon you." He punched talons into the other set and brought up this new idea to the Who, "I mean, you and I, we could form an alliance and work together to fight against the scum and villainy that's spawned in Whoville." The armoured black-bottom eagle leaned forward over his rivals and stated slowly and strongly, _"Neither one of us has to end of being killed!" _Again, Freakshow remained dead silent and Dark Eagle leaned back, asking plainly, "So what do you say...Jojo McDodd?"

There was a silence now, besides the pounding rain against the metal catwalks and increasing sound of police sirens. Freakshow straightened up his back and slowly turned his head to look at the black-bottom eagle. His long multicoloured hair blew around in the wind and rain and his face, for the first time had no look of insanity or demented humour. He looked nearly enough of whom he used to be, despite his face being horrifically mutilated. Freakshow lowered his head and put his long bony fingers over his eyes, saying ruefully, "N...no! I'm...I'm sorry, okay? But just...no! I, It's too late to even consider that now. I crossed that line of no return _ages _ago!"

The Dark Eagle lowered his head sadly. Maybe Freakshow was right. Maybe it truly _was _too late.

_"Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh, heh..."_

Dark Eagle raised his head and looked at Freakshow. He was laughing again. The twisted look of insanity and demented humour had returned in a flash.

Freakshow himself brushed his soaked hair back with his hand and said with a chuckle or two getting in the way, "You know, at times like these, a nice joke is what cheers me up. And luckily for you, there is one little gag that all ways makes me laugh. It was a joke that my father told me when I was just a little tyke. It was even the first joke that made me laugh." He cleared his throat placed his hands in the air as he retold the same job that his father once told him. "You see, there was these two guys who just got released from an insane asylum. Now their friend on the outside decided to take them out on the town to celebrate. They reached this spiffy bar and the friend said to the two 'formerly insane' inmates, _"Hey, come on, you two. Let's walk into this bar and get a drink." _But the two former inmates looked each other and the first guy said to the friend, _"Walk into a bar?!"_ And the second guy quipped...heh, heh, heh, heh!" Freakshow did his best to stifle his laughter for the moment and grabbed a hold of his sides. All the while, the police sirens had grown louder and louder and _louder._ Finally, he looked up at Dark Eagle with a wide toothy grin and demented eyes and delivered the punch line. "..._"And they say we're crazy?!"_" The psycho could not control himself any longer. **"HUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! HA, HA, HA, HA, HA!!! HEH, HEH, HOO, HEH, HOO, HOO!" **He put his hand up in front of the armoured black-bottom eagle and run his hand down his own face."Oh, s-sorry, heh, heh. Please do excuse me! Ha, ha! This one **all ways **cracks me up!** HA, HA, HA, HA, HA!!"**

Standing before the laughing lunatic as stiff as a board, the Dark Eagle found his own beak jittering with a chuckle. He could not help himself. "Heh. Heh, heh, heh, heh." Once you got around it, the joke was actually quite funny. A full blown toothy smile appeared on the large carnivorous birds' face and soon, he started laughing. "Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!"

The police sirens had become as clear as bells and the sound of cars parking right outside the observatory followed. Police, S.W.A.T, the authorities had at last arrived. In the sky, a police helicopter's spotlight shone down on the catwalk on which Dark Eagle and Freakshow were standing. Lightning struck brightly and loudly in the sky, the rain came down to the city of Whoville like bullets and the wind blew around like a miniature hurricane!

As all this was happening, the laughing Dark Eagle grabbed the cackling Freakshow roughly by the throat. Soon, the laughter of these two costumed beings started to mingle together in at the same time in a chorus. _**"HUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! HA, HA, HA, HEH, HOO, HOO!! HOO, HEH, HEH, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA!!! **_

* * *

**(A/N) And I will leave it right there! I am very much pleased with how this chapter turned out. I think I really caught the intensity of the moment and the emotions of the characters very well. I hope you all enjoyed this confrontation chapter as much as I did. Anyway, the next chapter is actually the epilogue of the story, meaning it is the last. It is all most strange how this story which I have most enjoyed is nearly over. Oh, well. Make sure you stay alert for the official conclusion of 'Freakshow'. Please Read and Review!**


	17. Epilogue

**(A/N) All right, everyone, I am back with the epilogue of my story **_**Freakshow. **_**It is all most shocking how well this story has developed, I really am. I think I have single-handedly cleared the opening for more matured rated **_**Horton Hears A Who**_** fanfictions with this one. But that is all up to opinion, of course. Anyway, let us proceed with the final chapter of one of my most favourite stories.**

* * *

**Epilogue**

It was night time once again in Whoville; the skies cloaked in a foggy black and the full moon shining like a ghostly beacon. Police Commissioner Kent Martyn stood on top of damp roof top of a building in the central business district of Whoville. He was wearing a heavy brown trench coat and was holding a cup of coffee in one hand. The light shower of rain blew around in the wind, creating a loud ghostly whistling noise that could send a chill down your spine.

"You called me?"

Commissioner Kent Martyn took a sip of his coffee and turned to look at Vlad Vladikoff or otherwise known as the Dark Eagle perched on the edge of the roof. He looked considerably different. The grey armour he had worn three days ago had now been coloured a dark black, including the helmet and gauntlets. His green face shield had now been replaced by an orange one. The black-bottom eagle looked so dark and mysterious now he could blend into the shadows with ease and not be detected.

"Nice suit." Martyn said, looking at the Dark Eagle and stepping forward.

"Larue made some modifications." The Dark Eagle looked down at his dark black metal gauntlets and stared back up at the Commissioner. "Well, Commissioner? How might I be off help?"

"Well, I've got some decent news to inform you." Commissioner Martyn took out some pieces of documents out of his trench coat pockets. "We've been rounding up most of the escaped mental patients Freakshow himself released from the asylum." Dark Eagle took some of the documents and nodded after giving them a look over. "It won't be long before all of them are put back in straight jackets and taking their medication again."

"And the crooks Freakshow had Caine released from the prison?"

Martyn shrugged, putting both of his hands into his coat pockets, "We're still working on that. Once we arrived at the observatory those days ago we found a lot of Freakshow's own goons dead." He then took out one hand from his pocket and rubbed his own chin. "We came in contact with Caine and Claude, both of whom made a runner. One of our guys was able to shoot Claude in the back of the head but Caine was too fast. He got away, but there's a good chance we'll run into him again."

"So what are you saying? Is Claude dead?"

"He's currently...in a coma. It's currently a fifty-fifty thing if he is gonna live or not." Commissioner Martyn then just waved off the whole matter concerning Claude and moved onto a more concerning subject. "But he's not what we're worried about right now. We've still got Rodgerick Terwayne to go after."

"Who's that?"

"A dangerous Who. _Extremely _dangerous." Martyn frowned sternly. "I'm sure you'll meet him soon enough."

The Dark Eagle pocketed the documents held in his gauntleted talons and spoke again, "And Vikally?"

"She's making a full recovery and will be sent straight back to the mental asylum as soon as she in discharged from the hospital."

The armoured black-bottom eagle shook his head somewhat sadly and groaned, "The poor child. Her mind was warped by that maniac. I all most feel sorry for electrocuting her." On saying 'maniac', he remembered something important. "Oh, yes. Tell me...what is the Freakshow's current status of the moment?"

Commissioner Martyn looked down at his own reflection in the dirty puddle of water. "He's getting his first meeting with Dr. Larue tonight..."

* * *

Dr. Mary Lou Larue walked down the hallways of the Whoville Insane Asylum with two armed guards at her side. She occasionally took a look from left to right at the metal labelled doors and listened to the groans and cackles of the recently recaptured inmates. Some stuck their heads out and grinned wickedly at her; some even giving her a whistle when she passed them. She just cringed in revulsion at each time they did this and just walked on.

_'What are we trying to accomplish from that?'_

Larue reached the end of the hallway and positioned there before her was one last large metal door that had a square window with three vertical metal bars attached. Attached the front was a small black rectangular bar that read in white letters 'McDodd J.' One of the armed guard took out a set of keys and shoved a small dark grey one in the key hole. He gave it a turn, unlocking the door and slowly pushed it open. He gave a nod to Larue who nodded back and slowly stepped inside with the door slowly closing behind her.

_'Basically to see if there's __**anything **__of Jojo McDodd left in the maniac's mind. I know it doesn't sound realistic but it's worth a shot...'_

After taking a look around the darkened padded cell, Mary Lou Larue stared forward at the far end padded wall. Sitting there with his back against the wall and his multicoloured hair askew was the psychotic Who, who's capture had made the front page of every newspaper for the last few days now. He was strapped up tight in a white straight jacket and his breath was shaking. The scientist straightened out her purple hair and made her way over to the small teenage Who.

Mary Larue kneeled down before the homicidal Who and put her soft warm furry hand on his cold and bristly cheek. "Jojo...? Honey?" Freakshow heavy eyelids opened up to show his yellow eyes and looked up the Who that had taken such great care of him when his face was under work. "It's me."

Freakshow's lips trembled and he said with a quivering voice, "M...mommy?"

Dr. Larue smiled maternally at the young Who and told him lovingly, "Yes, sweetie. It's your mommy. And I'm here for you." She took his weak bony hands and rubbed them with her hands to make them warmer. "Don't you worry, dear. I'm here to take good care of you." She sat down carefully beside him and wrapped her arm around his shoulder.

The homicidal Who smiled weakly and leaned himself into the embrace of his loving 'mommy'. "I wanna hug." He mumbled, letting her wrap her arms around him. "Mommy..."

Mary Lou kissed her little Freaky and rocked the child she had wanted as much as her own back and forth possessively. She rested his head underneath her chin and crooned, "I'm here. I'm here..."

* * *

Commissioner Kent Martyn took out his canteen and refilled his cup of coffee and drank from it again. "We'll keep you regularly updated on McDodd's progress. Also..." Martyn put his hand into his coat pocket and took something out; a set of laminated cards. He handed them over to the black-bottom eagle, saying, "Here."

"What are these?" Dark Eagle looked down at the set of laminated card confused.

"Your licenses to assault, maim, act outside the official law like the police and most importantly...to kill." Commissioner Martyn shrugged his trench coat and cocked his eyebrow. "That is if unless you are considering _returning _back to Nool now."

The Dark Eagle merely shook his head slowly. "No. There is nothing for me back there to return _to._" He looked over his shoulder and stared out over the city roof tops. "Whoville needs a hero right now. I can't honestly say I am the best choice, but there doesn't seem to be anyone else to fit the role. Horton, Kangaroo, Morton, the others, they will be returning to Nool tomorrow. It's where they belong and they need to get back to it."

"I bet they'll miss ya."

Shrugging his wings, the black-bottom eagle told the Who, "I'll go back to Nool on occasion to pay the gang a visit. I'm certain that not _every _Noolian will miss me, what with my reputation..." He turned the full way around, his back facing Martyn and gazed into the night sky. "...I'm just glad knowing _some _will. They are very good people; most of them anyway."

Commissioner Martyn nodded and after a moment of silence, asked the large carnivorous bird before him, "So will you then be taking up the Mayor's offer as Whoville's new...symbol of law and order?"

"Maybe..." the eagle folded his wings over and raised his head up high. "I mean, I made it my 'duty' to take so much away from my home society, the least I can do is help give something back to this one."

Chuckling a bit, the Who Commissioner of police told the Dark Eagle, while putting a hand on his shoulder. "You _are _a good person, Vladikoff. After what everyone has read in the newspapers, you've become a town hero."

Dark Eagle looked back at Martyn over his shoulder, smiling a bit as he said lowly, "I do not know much about the term 'hero', Commissioner Martyn. It's become warped so much over the centuries that no one can fully understand what it truly stands for nowadays." He closed his eyes looked forward again. "No. I was doing what I and a lot of others thought was right. The word 'hero' does not fit me at all. I am what you call...the heavy artillery."

Martyn put his hands up in a fake defensive position, "Hey, that's cool." He put his hands back down and crossed his arms, looking out over the city roof tops far away. "But believe me, we do need you right now. What with the undeniable threat that crime levels in Whoville are going to increase now, the city gonna go through some rough times. I guess...Freakshow actually did win."

"He will only win _if _Whoville gives up its hope. If we can preserve and even eventually bolster that morale in Whoville, then Freakshow will not win. So we must fix the damage he has caused and stop his plans in the future; whatever they may be."

"Couldn't have put that better myself." Kent Martyn rubbed the back of his stiff neck with his free hand.

"Who's going to be future Mayor, now?" Dark Eagle now turned around to look at the Commissioner. "I mean, Jojo was the first born in the mayoral family. Who shall take his place?"

* * *

Earlier that very same day in town hall, news reporters were crowded around in a circle behind security guards. In the middle, Harley and Ned McDodd stood there while the very short green council member stood in front of them, holding up an open certain book. Harley as instructed, put her hand on the book and held up her other in the air. She was being given a new birthright; the birthright of future Mayor. Mayor Ned McDodd looked down at his daughter with a proud yet solemn expression, giving her hair a stroke once she had taken her hand off the book. Meanwhile, Chairman Vonfrood and the remaining council members stood in the background, remaining unheard and unseen.

_'That'll be going to the second born, Harley. It's the one thing she's ever wanted since she was a little kid. At least __**she'll **__be happy.'_

* * *

"Works, all right." The armoured black-bottom eagle scratched underneath his beak. "What is the current status on Jerome Eckhart?"

_'He's going to perfectly fine and so is his sister.'_

Earlier that day around midday, Zoey Eckhart was lead out of the hospital doors in a wheelchair by her father. She still looked a bit ruffed up and she was going to have to be in that wheelchair for a week or so. When she was taken outside, she was overjoyed to see her brother, Jerome standing there before her. He took off his chequered fedora and embraced his sister, whom of which embraced him back.

_'I'm glad. They deserve a happy ending. And what of that observatory? Are you guys going to be doing anything with that?'_

* * *

Meanwhile, at the observatory itself, Sally stood there watching mournfully as the police began pouring cans upon cans of petrol over the floors. Lieutenant Knox walked up to her and motion to back up as with the other cops and she obliged. When everyone had stepped further enough away, Knox took a Zippo lighter out of his coat and activated its naked flame. He looked from Sally to the other police cops before he gave it a toss onto the large lake of petrol. The second it came in contact, a flood of fire spread out from all ends across the floor and soon began crawling up the walls. All the machines, clitter and clatter that Jojo McDodd had either built or kept in this observatory, even the mighty Symphonophone went up in a roar of orange flames!

_'Well...there are some things that just need to be left in the past. That place is one of them.'_

Walking away from the intense heat and flames engulfing the observatory, Knox handed something to Sally; a brown envelope. Inside it as Sally opened the top was a set of application papers. She smiled a bit and nodded to Knox, saying something along the lines of meeting up with him on Saturday.

_'I just hope McDodd's family can move on."_

_'Heh. They're gonna be just fine, Vlad. They just need some time, is all."_

* * *

The Dark Eagle look down at the digital watch installed into his gauntlet and groaned as he walked over to the roof edge, "Well, I bet get going now. I'm going to do my last rounds before calling it a night."

"Vlad."

Dark Eagle stopped in his tracks and took a glance back at the tall Who behind him. "Yeah.

Commissioner Martyn tossed away the rest of the coffee in his cup and rubbed his sinuses. "Between you...and Freakshow. Is it going to be just like the Batwho and the Jester between you two? Where blood will constantly be spilt until one day...one of you ends up being killed by the other? A long-lasting roller coaster suicide ride?"

The large carnivorous bird took a long breath in before answering, "The future is all most impossible to tell, Kent. We can only pray for a more suitable outcome for us." He cocked his head. "Does that sound good enough for you?"

Martyn nodded slightly, half smiling, "Good enough."

"Remember; if you need me, call me." The Dark Eagle kneeled down at the edge of the roof, ready to activate his rocket and send himself flying into the night sky. "Maybe something like the Who signal or a set of fireworks to set up my symbol in the sky. Once I come up with one, that is."

"I'll get to work on that." Martyn laughed half-heartedly.

"Oh and one last thing. Kent...?"

Commissioner Kent Martyn looked up at the Russian black-bottom eagle, calling over to him, "Yeah?"

For one last time that night, the Dark Eagle or Vlad Vladikoff looked over at the Who over his rocket and stated with a smile, "Merry Christmas." With those last two words said, the eagle's rocket activated and he was launched off the roof edge and into the sky. And wouldn't you know it; as the city's new symbol of hope and justice soared throughout the night sky, a large abundance of snow sprinkled down from the land of Nool and onto the city of Whoville.

Holding out his hand to feel the falling snow, Commissioner Kent Martyn smiled to himself. He held up his cup and refilled it with more coffee from his small canteen. Kent took another sip of hot drink and afterwards chuckled quietly, _"Merry Christmas...ya big nut."_

Maybe there really was hope after all.

* * *

**January 13th 2009, 00:11 am. The Whoville Insane Asylum.**

A heavy chested nurse wearing a turquoise uniform pushed a glistening metal tray down the hallways of the floor, passing by all the labelled doors as she did. When she finally reached the door that read 'McDodd J.' on the front, the nurse cringed and took the bottle of medication off from the tray. She turned the handle of the metal door and slowly pushed it open. But what she saw made the bottle of medication in her hand drop and scatter on the floor and a scream ring out from her mouth.

Sitting there in the darkened padded cell was a dead body lying on one side! It was covered from head to toe in blood and with the very same liquid, written on the walls was the word 'HA!' again and again. However, the most shocking thing about the sight was that it was not the body of the occupant of the cell. It was a woman's body wearing a turquoise uniform. It was a dead nurse!

The nurse's screams echoed throughout the insane asylum, making all the asylum workers rush to see what the commotion was all about. All except one, that is. A very small Who stepped out from the back door of the asylum building, holding a brown suitcase in one hand. First, he discarded the light green male nurse uniform he had poorly dressed himself into and threw it into the nearby garbage bin. Next, he took out a purple blazer and put it on his person. Also, from the same suitcase, the small Who took out and placed upon his head...a black bowler hat.

Tipping the bowler hat over his blue face, the Who then pulled the purple blazer over his front to hide his person. His feral yellow eyes took a look at his surroundings, while his hands searched around in blazer pocket. He pulled out silver snub-nosed revolver and aimed handled it for a moment to check if it was operational. Once he was certain it worked, the Who put the gun back into his blazer pocket.

Giving his neck a crack left and right, the midget of a Who made his way down the filth-ridden alleyway in between the two buildings. He remained dead silent until soon...a mutter escaped out of his left torn away cheek. It sounded incoherent at first but if one listened close enough, they could make it out what it was this Who was saying.

...

...

...

"Heh."

...

...

...

_"Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh. Heh, heh, heh, ha, ha! Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! Huahahahahahahahahahahahaha!"_

_

* * *

_

**The End...?**

* * *

**(A/N) And...that is it. This story is now officially finished! Wow, I did not think I would have gotten this done. I will tell everyone whom is reading this right now that I have enjoyed writing this story even more than you have enjoyed reading it, guaranteed. You know, for my very first **_**Horton Hears A Who, **_**I have to say this has turned out to be one of my very best works to date. Now for all those wondering, I **_**may **_**write an official sequel to this, I emphasize on the 'may'. Besides, Glowworm666 is going to be working on a spin-off to this featuring some of her own characters as well, which I shall be working on with her. But until then, I shall be continuing work on my other HHAW story **_**Of Dogs and Whos **_**(which I highly recommend you read and review) and my famous **_**Toon City **_**series. Also, I believe I might be working on a short Christmas story near the time. We will have to see.**

**So for the last time regarding this particular story, please Read and Review.**


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